


Pulse

by nikiverse



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikiverse/pseuds/nikiverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth is miles behind the other adults in her walker-killing abilities. The prison group comes together and tries to remedy that. Beth/Rick, Bethyl teasers. </p>
<p>This is set after the group gets settled into the prison but before Rick starts farming and before the prison infection (b/n seasons 3 and 4). Should be appropriate for high schoolers? Cussing and sexual situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise

**Author's Note:**

> Maggie, Glenn, Carl, and Daryl have gone on a supplies run. Rick, Hershel, and Carol are outside on walker watch.
> 
> Lyrics are from a Jewel song.

Rick wipes the sweat from his brow and then scans the horizon for walkers. Nothing. Nothing, but the smell of rotting flesh and the sound of mosquitoes buzzing. He looks to his left and sees Hershel and Carol sitting in chairs talking.

Rick loudly whistles to get Hershel's attention. When Hershel glances over, Rick makes a drinking motion with his hand, and Hershel waves him away. Rick makes the trek back to the prison, gun slung over his shoulder.

Inside the prison, Rick guzzles some water and lays down his gun. He wants to see Baby Judith. As he walks to the cells, he hears Beth singing a lullaby.

No one in today's time sings, really. It's a rare treat to hear. Plus, Beth aint a half bad singer. She is also the unique age where she's old enough to remember life before the walkers, but is still young enough to crave and expect a better future. Most adults are too jaded to sing; the young kids like Carl don't know what songs to sing because they've never heard them.

_And when you cry  
_

_I'll be there, baby, telling you  
_

_You were never nothing less than beautiful  
_

_So don't you worry  
_

_I'm your angel standing by_

Rick silently walks a little closer and can see over Beth's shoulder that Judith is asleep. The sun is peeking through the windows. Rick's eyes blur the scene and all he sees is a silhouette of mother and child.

_Beth cradling Judith. The sun cradling Beth._

Beth senses Rick behind her and abruptly stands up as she stops singing.

Rick breaks the silence. "Ha, you didn't have to stop." He shifts his weight. "That was real nice, Beth."

Beth smiles and says, "Thanks, Rick."

Rick looks at Judith and beckons for Beth to bring his child over. Beth obliges as she walks over to Rick and stands on the tips of her toes as she protectively hands over the child.

As he gazes into his slumbering baby, Rick tells Beth, "You know, she has no idea what a walker is."

"I'm not so sure I really understand them either," Beth says as she tries to lighten the mood.

Rick smiles. "There's not too much to understand." He turns around and lays Judith down in the makeshift cradle Hershel and Carol made. He turns back to Beth. "You know, I've been thinking a lot about the unfair position that you, Maggie, and Carol have been put in as the caretakers for Judith and—"

Beth interrupts, "Rick, stop! We all love and care for Judith and would do anything for that baby. No need to apologize."

"Yeah, but she's not your responsibility. And with Maggie and Carol always leaving now these days, it's just you and Carl. . . . I don't know Beth, I just feel like you're losing your childhood and not living life."

"Rick, what life do Carl and I have? What would we do if Judith weren't here? Carl might be into killing walkers, but that's not me. I'd probably just be in this prison staring at the walls if it weren't for Judith."

Rick presses his lips together, shakes his head, and moves his gaze to his boots.

Beth continues, "Or worse, I'd probably be dead. Have you seen me kill them? Even through the fence? It's ugly."

Rick looks back up at Beth and smiles, "Yeah, you're pretty bad."

Beth lightly laughs. She then bows her head slightly as she turns serious. "Rick, I know this will sound weird and creepy. But Judith is so dependent on us and, I don't know, it's a miracle, Rick. A miracle that we can still provide for her." Beth pauses as she slides her hair behind her ear and looks up at Rick. "She gives me hope."

Rick must have been holding his breath, because he feels the need to take a deep inhale.

Beth continues, "This world is so ugly and rough right now. It's nice to have something innocent to remind us that the world isn't all bad."

Beth's statement draws a heavy weight down on Rick's chest.  _Beth_. This innocent person who reminds him the world isn't all bad.  _The burden of Beth_.

As teenagers often do, Beth tries to fill the awkward silence with some even more awkward words. "Plus, she's so soft."

Rick stares into Beth's eyes as he uncrosses his arms and walks over to her. Beth stands frozen as Rick stands about as close as he ever has to her. He bends his elbow as his starts to curl his hand into a light fist. Against his better judgment, Rick lightly brushes the back of his knuckles on Beth's cheek. She closes her eyes for a second to calm herself down. As she opens her eyes back up, Rick pulls his hand away. They hold each other's gaze for a moment. Rick drops his head and turns to head back to the fields. As he grabs his rifle, the thought pervades his mind:  _I shouldn't have done that_.


	2. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick had un-characteristically been affectionate towards Judith. After putting Judith down, Rick approached Beth and some subtle feelings started to surface.

Beth sits outside reading a book she found in the prison library –  _A Moveable Feast_. Beth had never been out of the country, much less to Paris. The France Hemingway describes might as well be science fiction as far as Beth is concerned. _Nothing to see there anyways. French walkers probably don’t even have accents when they moan_. 

Judith interrupts Beth’s thoughts with a giggle.  _Look at her grabbing her little toes_ , Beth thinks. Judith is lying on the blanket beside Beth and rocking side to side with both feet in her hands.

Beth reclines next to Judith and squints at the sun lowering behind the trees. The temperature is actually cool and dry. Beth remembers days like this. Jimmy would have his arms wrapped around her as they made s’mores and listened to their friends’ conversations around the bonfire. Beth feels blessed that she got to experience a normal, pre-walker life. She doubts tranquil sing-a-longs with marshmallows and guitars playing will crop up in her new future.

 _Or anyone else’s, for that matter_.

Carl and Judith immediately move to the forefront of Beth’s mind. _They’ll never watch a movie at a friend’s house or go roller-skating._ Carl is so close to Beth’s age, yet they have little in common. He will never have a chance to experience the world like Beth was able to. Beth has always felt a world with walkers is an uncommon world, but it’s all Carl knows. He’s become quite cold and unforgiving as a result. Beth can hardly blame him. Life has turned into a never-ending series of fight or flight responses.

Beth and Carl’s greatest commonality is how they are not closely connected to anyone in the group at all. They’ve accidentally separated from the group for different reasons. Carl has distanced himself from father, while Beth spends her time parenting Judith. And now that Maggie has found Glenn, Beth realizes how alone she has felt. So now Beth ambles through the group like an ignored middle child, never knowing whether to join the kid’s table or if she’s allowed to play with the adults. She glances at Judith. _I’m not so alone_.

Carol walks up behind Beth and Baby Judith.

“Hey pretty girls!” she says.

Thankful for the distraction, Beth turns around and smiles, “Hi Carol.” She moves Judith to the middle of the blanket to make room.

“That was nice of Glenn to bring back this blanket back when they went out. It adds a bit of fun to . . . this.” Carol motions in the general direction of the prison. Carol sits as Beth looks down at the Woody and Buzz pattern. Buzz, hands on his hips, juts his chest at you with an out-of-this-world confidence while Woody has a goofy grin plastered on his face. Beth knows the stores around this area do not carry Disney paraphernalia. Glenn must have grabbed this blanket from someone’s house.

Beth and Carol sit in silence for a while. No one really knows how to make small talk anymore. But something has been bugging Beth. She turns to Carol and says, “So Rick came up to me and asked to hold Judith. That’s weird, don’t you think?”

Carol turns her head to Beth. Everyone in the camp, with the exception of maybe Carl, knows there’s a strong possibility that Carl and Judith are possibly half-siblings. Word had even gotten around to Beth and the Greene’s about Lori’s infidelity with Shane. No one is particularly surprised Rick has distanced himself from Judith. Carl gave Judith her name. He could have called her “Lori Killer” and Rick would have gone along with it. If Judith made it to a talking age, Beth wondered if she would even refer to Rick as “Dad”. 

After careful thought, Carol responds, “I wonder if Rick is finally dealing with Lori. And her death, you know?”

Beth picks at some grass as Carol continues, “Did you know that Daryl used to catch Rick talking to someone in the woods? Someone who was not there. He finally figured out Rick was talking to Lori.” Beth had not known that. “Daryl says that he doesn’t see Rick do that anymore. Maybe he’s moving on. Maybe he can see Judith for what she is now.”

“That makes sense,” Beth says.

Judith interrupts the silence with a gurgly yawn. Carol looks down at the child and rubs her belly. “She’s such a good, quiet baby. It’s like she already knows what kind of world she was born into.” Carol stands to get up. “Do you mind if I put her to bed?”

“Oh, not at all!” It still sometimes surprises Beth when people ask her permission to do anything with Judith.

As Carol cradles Judith, Beth tells Carol, “Hey, I’ll be back by dark.”

Carol nods and heads back to the prison.

The sun casts long, warm shadows across the field. There’s not a walker in sight. The landscape is surprisingly peaceful. Beth lies down on the blanket and closes her eyes. She silently thanks God for this beautiful moment.

Then her mind turns back to the conversation with Carol. Beth thinks about the part of the story purposefully omitted. Rick’s affectionate touch was such a fleeting moment, Beth wonders if it even happened. 

* * *

 

“Where is she?!” Maggie cries.

“We’ll find her,” Rick responds. Maggie stops and looks around. They can hardly see anything, the waning moon stingily holding onto its light. 

“BETH!” she yells out again.

Nothing.

Maggie turns to Rick, tears streaming down her eyes. “Do you think . . . ?“

Rick stops her, “Daryl and I both went out today. There wasn’t a walker in sight.”

“No,” Maggie cries. “That’s not what I was talking about. Do you think she might have hurt herself?” Maggie stops her words from progressing any further. Would speaking something make it more likely?

Rick had almost forgotten about Beth’s suicide attempt at Hershel’s farm.  Suddenly Rick’s mind floods with notions and possibilities. He tries to push them back but once they’re there, the thoughts repeat over and over in Rick’s mind. 

 _You killed her_.

 Rick puts his hand on Maggie’s shoulder and looks into her eyes, “She’s fine.” Maggie bows her head and weakly nods in agreement. Rick squeezes her shoulder and notions to continue walking with him.

 _She killed herself because you scared her_. 

“BETH!” Rick yells out.

 _You crossed the line, Rick_.

“BETH!” Rick’s voice almost cracks this time.

“Wait!” Maggie grabs Rick’s arm to stop him. “Shh!” 

They hover in silence. Maggie is about to speak, but then they hear a far-off noise.

“Hey!”

“Hey! I’m over here.”

Maggie and Rick race off in the direction of the voice. Rick slows down as he finally sees Beth jogging towards them with a blanket and book in hand. Maggie races past Rick and crashes into Beth as she drops the items to catch her sister in a hug.

A painful wave of relief washes over Rick’s body, and he falls to his knee and bends over to catch his breath. He finally puts his elbow on his knee and rests his forehead between his thumb and middle finger, strongly rubbing his temples. Maggie is still hugging Beth as Rick stands back up. He interrupts the embrace and points to Beth, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Rick immediately turns around and heads off to inform Daryl, Glenn, Carl, and the others that Beth is all right.    

Beth looks at her sister and throws out her weak defense, “I just dozed off!”

Mouth agape and fighting back tears, the gravity of the situation starts to hit Beth. She feels foolish for putting the group in such a treacherous position.  Carl and Hershel are probably out there yelling and drawing attention to themselves to find a napping girl.

Maggie throws her arm around Beth’s shoulder, and they walk back to the prison. 


	3. Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth's nap fiasco has brought her inexperience with walkers to light. The Greene's work to get Beth some fighting assistance.

Rick and Hershel are standing outside, the sun glaring down.

"Rick, I need you to help me out."

Rick looks down, thinking. Finally he says, "Hershel, I'm sorry, I just … I can't. I don't know what's going on but I …. She'd be safer out there with Maggie and Glenn leading the way. I gotta focus on my kids right now."

"Alright, Rick," Hershel says as he faces the prison. Before he leaves, Hershel rests his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Take this time to collect your head. You're probably going to need it later".

Rick squints his eyes towards the fence holding back the walkers as Hershel treads back to the prison.

* * *

"Beth? I don't know, man. Why can't Rick do it?"

Maggie jokingly shoves Daryl. "Why? You scared?"

Daryl keeps his arms folded and says nothing.

Maggie exasperatingly looks at her husband. Glenn takes the cue and says, "We already asked him; he said 'No'. It seems like he's trying to check out or something. I don't get what's going on with him."

"I hate this place. Everyone's getting too comfortable here … changing."

"Daryl, you still didn't answer the question," Maggie presses.

"Why can't yall do it?" Daryl asks.

Maggie sighs. "We need two people to go on a supply run tomorrow. Glenn and I are going. We got Carol watching Judith. Now we just need someone to teach Beth."

Glenn follows up Maggie's sentiments. "You and Rick are the only people we trust her with. Beth needs to learn how to protect herself. If not now, when?"

Daryl rolls his eyes, "Fine. But remember, I aint her babysitter." He grabs his crossbow and heads out the door.

As he is walking out, Maggie grabs Daryl's arm, "Nevermind, if you're going out with that attitude!"

Daryl drops his head. He finally says, "Don't worry, I'll bring her back safe."

Maggie lets go of his arm and smiles, "You better or you're going have to answer to my dad … and  _then_  me."

Daryl smiles and shakes his head as he walks out the door.

Maggie turns and plants her hands on Glenn's shoulders. "He's got a tough exterior but deep down, we know Daryl Dixon is a kitten."

Glenn laughs as he walks closer to his wife and grabs her hips. "Yeah, a kitten with really good aim." Maggie smiles as she pulls Glenn close for a quick hug. They pull apart. "I'll get the car ready for tomorrow."

"And I'll tell Beth the good news."

* * *

Beth plops on her bed. "Maggie, you can't be serious! Daryl hates me."

"He doesn't hate you! He doesn't even know you. You guys have hardly said two words to each other."

"Why do I need this anyways? I kill walkers all the time."

"Yeah, through the fence. That's not the same thing. We're not going to be at this prison forever you know."

Beth gives Maggie a sidelong glance. "Why? I like it here. And stop calling it a prison; it's home now!"

Maggie changes the subject, "Look, it'll get you out of 'the house'". Maggie throws up air quotes. "You're always cooped up watching that baby."

"Okay first off, Judith is not 'that baby'." Beth throws up accompanying air quotes too. "Maybe some people know there's more to life than killing walkers. Secondly, I like watching Judith. She's got more personality than Daryl. She talks more than Michonne. And she's not as creepy as Lizzie."

Maggie covers her mouth as she tries not to laugh.  _That Lizzie girl_ is _pretty strange. Even for a child of the Apocalypse_. "Quit trying to change the subject. Think of it as a date!"

Beth gives her sister a sidelong glance. "Ha. Ha. Funny girl." Beth sighs. "This is about me falling asleep out there? You got worried I was out there … by myself?"

Maggie nods.

"Fine, I'll go. It won't suck too bad I guess."

"Thank you, Beth! Think of this as a step in your ladder to womanhood." Maggie counts off on her fingers, "First period. First kiss. First walker kill."

Beth counters, "I've killed plenty of walkers before, Maggie."

"Well, you know what I mean. I want to not worry about you if we ever get separated."

"It's not the walkers we gotta worry about, Mags; it's the people."

Maggie's face turns serious as she looks at Beth. Hershel's wisdom has branched far beyond her and into his youngest daughter. Maggie pushes Beth's braid out of her face and kisses her forehead. "Again, thank you Beth. You don't know how much you mean to me."


	4. Questions

Beth sits in her cell room, writing in her journal. She finishes the entry and closes the book. Looking over her shoulder, Beth sees Judith asleep on her bed.  _I'll bring her to Rick or Carl before I shower or when she wakes up, whichever comes first._

Happy with her plan, Beth turns to a small mirror that hangs from the cell wall. She pulls out her ponytail as her hair tumbles down. She starts to un-braid it. Carl interrupts her routine, "Why do you do that?"

Beth whirls around, "Where did you come from? And why do I do what?" Beth responds.

"Take down your hair. You're just going to wear it like that tomorrow. Seems like a waste of time to me. Why does it matter?"

Beth runs her hand through her hair as it fall around her shoulders. "Well," she thinks aloud. "I haven't really thought about it. I just like to feel normal. It's what we'd do before." Beth lets the sentence hang in the air.  _Before what?_  Her hands fall to her lap. "Why do you wear your dad's hat all the time?"

Carl drops his head and shrugs his shoulders, Rick's hat hiding his eyes.

Beth wondered if Carl wore the Sheriff's hat to feel closer to his dad. The last time Beth remembered Rick actively engaging with Carl was back on their farm, when Carl was recuperating from being shot. A pang of guilt hits Beth. Was her innocent question masquerading as an accusation of a missing father? She changes the subject back to the original question, "Well, I think it helps to have a routine. Playing with my hair helps me pass the time. It's good to have something to do every day when we're dealing with … all this." Beth waves her hands in the air. "It's good to have jobs. That's why I miss our farm. We always had a job to do. Life was slow but there wasn't really ever any slow time."

"Is that why you watch Judith? She's just something to pass your time?"

Beth smiles and walks over to Carl. "Judith is not a job to me, Carl. She brings life and happiness back to this world. She's part of the group now. We gotta protect her. If she could, she'd do the same for all us." Beth sees Rick sauntering to her cell as she finishes her statement.

"I can protect her," Carl said proudly.

Rick, freshly showered, plants his hand on Carl's head and says, "Sure you can, buddy. Now why don't you protect us all from stinkin' and go take a shower for us. The girls gotta get in there some time tonight."

Carl looks at his dad and thinks about protesting but changes his mind. "Okay dad." Carl throws a parting wave. "Bye, Beth."

Rick watches Carl walk off, making sure he is actually heading towards the shower. He turns back to Beth and points to Judith, "I can take her."

Beth looks over her shoulder then turns back to Rick. She pleads, "But look how peaceful she looks. We can't wake her up now. Let me bring her down later. She'll probably wake up in about an hour anyways."

Rick tries not to smile but a small one escapes.  _How can someone be so kind in this god-forsaken world?_  Beth has always looked upon his child of the apocalypse with extreme fondness … with love.  _Lori_. Rick's face turns cold as he tries to push memories of his dead wife back into the recesses of his mind.

Beth puts a hand on Rick's arm. "Is everything okay?"

Rick brings his fingers to his temples and gives them a squeeze. "Yeah, yeah." Rick walks backwards out of Beth's cell. "Just bring Judith back when she wakes up, will ya?"

As he's leaving, Beth leans out of her cell room. Rick walks slowly, head hanging.  _What is wrong?_  Beth wonders.  _We're finally safe, but Rick seems like he's starting to unravel_.

* * *

Beth picks up Judith and grabs her bottle.  _Just one more meal and she'll be off to bed again_. Beth hums a tune as she walks down the stairs to the prison cellar. Holding Judith on her left hip, Beth finds the stockpile of Similac and grabs the can off the shelf. She plops the baby formula into the bottle and easily spins the bottle top back on with her right hand. She puts the canister of Similac back on the shelf.

Beth walks back up the stairs and heads outside to the drums holding their drinking water. It is dark but the moon holds enough light for Beth to see the outline of the tables and broken fences littering the prison yard. The moaning walkers add to the symphony of chirping crickets and singing cicadas. Beth shrugs away a shiver running up her spine as she squats in front of the drum, balancing Judith on her thigh. She slowly turns the faucet on, attempting to fill the bottle seamlessly with water – not splashing on her clothes as it had a tendency to do in the past. "Perfect," she says to herself as she turns off the faucet and closes up the bottle.

"I don't know, I've seen better," a voice says above her. Beth, having nowhere to go, instinctively hugs Judith close to her chest as she falls to her right side, landing on her ass trying to scoot away from the voice.

Her eyes adjust on the figure and she sees the crossbow jutting over her assailant's shoulder. "Daryl!" she exclaims. "You scared the crap out of me!"

Daryl leans over and offers Beth his hand. "There's a whole lot out there worse than me."

Beth reluctantly takes his hand. "Doubtful," she says.

Daryl pulls her up. "We'll see if you change your mind tomorrow."

Beth looks at Judith and puts the bottle in her mouth before she figures out she wants to cry. "I know what's out there, Daryl. I'm not stupid. So you can stop talking down to me."

Daryl looks at Beth for a moment, slowly shrugs, and then turns to walk back towards the walker fence.

Beth stares at him for a moment and then yells, "What are you doing down there?"

Daryl stops and turns around. "Me and your pops are doing something."

"What?"

"You'll find out tomorrow. Now go on, take Little Ass Kicker back. We got work to do." Daryl turns back around and heads down the hill to the walker fence. Beth thinks about walking back to the prison but her curiosity gets the best of her.

Beth looks at Judith and coos, "What do you think they're up to?" Judith stares back with a quizzical expression. Beth quietly walks closer to the men, the moon illuminating their silhouettes. She sees the outline of her pop hammering a tree limb to a small make-shift post.  _What the hell? Are they making a fence?_  Beth sees Daryl pulling his crossbow off his back and picking up a shovel. He starts digging a hole for another post. Hershel points towards Daryl but she can't hear what they're saying to one another. Beth smiles as she recalls her dad and Shawn fixing the fence on their farm multiple times. She decides to walk back to the prison and leave them be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to change the tense on this! Sorry!

Judith's head was starting to loll around Beth's shoulders. Beth readjusted Judith and cradled her with both arms. She walked out of her cell and tip-toed down the stairs towards Rick's abode. He was sound asleep. Beth quietly pulled his gate open enough to slide in. She saw Rick stir and paused. When Rick stilled himself, Beth realized she was holding her breath. Even though she thought of the prison as Home, it could still throw out a spooky vibe at night.

 _Chill out, it's just Rick_. Even so, Beth felt like she was sneaking around a Giant, attempting to steal his hidden stash of gold. Taking a deep exhale, Beth finally turned to Judith's corner of the cell and softly placed the child into the makeshift cradle. Judith started to stir and wake up. Beth squat next to the cradle as Judith's face worked its way into its familiar pre-cry mode. Beth shushed Judith as she grabbed her bottle and hurriedly tried to get Judith to latch on. The child wanted none of it and started to cry. Right when the bottle found the child's mouth, Beth felt a hand grab her right arm. The bottle flew out as Beth was whirled around, her back against the wall. Rick's forearm pressed firmly into Beth's chest; she could hardly breathe. His face inches from her, Rick snarled, "What are you doing?!"

Beth struggled to catch her breath as Judith began wailing in the background. Rick's eyes were wildly scanning her face, trying desperately to adjust to the light. "Rick," she finally sputtered. "It's me."

Carl came crashing into the room. He ran into his dad's back as he grabbed Rick's waist and started to pull him away from Beth. "Dad! What are you doing? Stop!"

Rick blinked; his eyes finally focusing on hers. The adrenaline coursed through his body, having nowhere to go. He slowly stepped backwards into Carl, his arm falling away from Beth's chest. Not knowing what to do, Beth retreated into the corner of Rick's cell, trying to calm herself down. Rick finally broke the silence, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you." He put his hand on Carl's shoulder to pull him away from his waist. "I'm fine, Carl. I was just … I didn't know who was in here." Rick pointed to Judith, "Pick up your sister, will ya?"

Carl obliged. Beth saw Carl clumsily pick up the crying child. Rick turned to Beth and walked towards her. Before he could offer her a hand, Beth slid against the wall heading towards the exit. She instinctively avoided jerky movements while keeping her distance from Rick. She was shaking and wanted to calm down. If the guys found out, she was afraid of the implications.  _"Beth can't handle this world," is what they'd say_.

Rick noticed Beth avoiding his gaze. He reached his arm towards her, getting ready for his apology speech. He wanted to tell Beth it was okay, that he wasn't a monster. Beth found the exit out of Rick's cell with her left hand. There was no time. Rick whispered, "I'm sorry."

Beth glanced up at him, pursed her lips, and quickly nodded. She stepped out of his cell and immediately felt an anvil of pressure lift off her chest as she left.

Frustrated, Rick pulled his hand into a fist.  _Damn it!_

Judith's wails brought him back to the cell. He turned to Carl and pulled Judith from his arms. "Go to bed, son. I got her."


	6. Ch. 6

_Clang, clang, clang!_  Daryl beat on Beth's cell with his crossbow.

"Rise and shine. It's time to get up," Daryl said through the cell bars.

Beth, usually a morning person, turned away from the noise. "Go away," she grumbled.

"Look, we got a crowd gatherin'. Can't keep 'em waiting."

Beth shot up. "A crowd? How embarrassing!" She flung herself back on the bed, taking a sheet to cover up her face. She heard Daryl walk inside her cell and felt the sheet being jerked away from her fingertips.

"You can stay there however long you want. But we all ain't got nothing better to do." Daryl paused and then continued, "But I do. So if you're not out there in the next, oh say, 20 minutes, I'm coming back with a glassful of water." He threw the sheet back towards Beth and walked out.

Beth shot up. By the time her eyes focused, she saw his back as he left her room. "You're seriously worse than being chased by walkers, Daryl Dixon!" she yelled after him.

Beth moved the sheet and looked at her legs.  _Thank God I wore pants_ , she thought. She could feel the hairs on her legs catch the fabric of her PJs. She couldn't remember the last time she was able to shave her legs. Maggie said she shouldn't care about petty things in the apocalypse; things like doing your hair, shaving your legs, or begging your sister relentlessly to find some art to put up in your cell. But Beth did care. Plus, Maggie had Glenn drooling over her, 24-7. So it's not like Maggie really had to care about looking presentable. Glenn would like Maggie if she magically turned into a mole-y witch overnight. It's easy to not care about your appearance when you have a guy like Glenn blindly in love with you.

Beth got out of the bed and slid the protective draping back in front of her cell. She quickly changed into her jeans and slid on the belt that kept them from falling down.  _What shirt should I wear today?_  She only had 4 shirts, and the other two were drying. This left her with shirt A and shirt B.

Beth kind of hated shirt A. It was this sleeveless used-to-be-white number that Maggie had grabbed for her on a run. Every time Beth lifted up her arms, you could practically see her bra. Maggie claimed the shirt was tres chic and left behind from some girl who probably visited France a lot. Where did Maggie get these crazy stories? Beth sometimes believed that Shirt A's original owner was alive, somewhere near The Louvre or the Arc de Triumphe. Or wrapped up in her boyfriend's arms at the base of the Eiffel Tower. But Beth knew this girl was dead, just like every other girl her age. She exhaled and stared off in space for a second. Beth waited for the morbid, negative thoughts to subside.  _If they stay there too long, that's what you become_ , thought Beth.

She couldn't bear the thought of Shirt B getting ruined with walker goo today. She slid on Shirt A.

Bonus: her armpits were shaved.

Beth caught herself in the small, streaked mirror she had hanging by her desk. She had always liked her arms. Farming and, now, stabbing walkers through the fence had kept them somewhat defined. Her hair, however, was a mess. She started to head out of the cell, but then turned back towards the mirror, debating with herself. After a moment, she walked back to her small desk and sat down. Grabbing a brush, Beth started detangling her hair. Daryl could wait five more minutes. She started weaving her hair through her nimble fingers, working it into a fishtail braid.  _We're not dead yet_. Beth smiled.

* * *

Beth wasn't quite sure where she and Daryl were going to go "walker hunting". Beth was meandering around the water drums when she saw a good chunk of the prison group surrounding the mini-fence her dad and Daryl were working on a few nights ago. Rick, Daryl, and her dad were standing in a small circle with Carol. Tyreese and Carl were sitting on the grass near Glenn and Maggie, who was holding Judith. "Oh great," Beth muttered under her breath.

"You know, I think this is a good idea," said Carol.

"What is?" asked Rick.

"Teaching the kids how to fight them."

"What, the walkers? Well, yeah. But I wouldn't say Beth is a kid," said Rick, hands on his hips.

Carol crossed her arms and looked to the ground as she moved a pebble around with her shoe.

Daryl broke the silence, "I guess if she's tall enough to reach the walker's head, she aint no kid."

Hershel and Rick glanced at one another. Carol looked at Daryl. "But we don't know when we're going to have to leave here. They need to know how to survive," she said.

"They need to know how to be kids, Carol," said Rick.

"Yeah, you're probably right," she said. Carol nodded her head towards Maggie and walked off silently.

After a moment, Rick looked at Hershel and asked, "Are you okay with Beth doing this?"

Hershel replied, "You know Rick, on one hand, I'm not going to be here forever. It's time she learns how to live in this world if something ever happens, and we separate. Maggie's always been capable, but Beth is a bit of a … gentler soul. I just don't want y'all going too fast with her, too soon." Hershel looked at Daryl, waiting for a response.

"What? I heard you the other night, Hershel. Y'all asked me to do this and now you're doubting?"

Hershel put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "I know you heard me, Daryl. Oh, speak of the devil." Hershel patted Daryl's shoulder and then limped up the hill towards Beth, who was slowly walking towards them.

Daryl looked at Rick. "Ugh, I don't want to do this with just one girl. You want Carl in on this too?"

Rick shook his head. "Nah, I don't want him out there yet."

"Look, I aint going to have her defend against five walkers or nothing. It's real tame, what I got planned."

"Carl's already chomping at the bit. He asks all the time to help clear the fence. I just don't want him moving any closer in that direction."

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself, man. You stayin for the show?"

Rick squinted towards Daryl. "I wouldn't miss this for the world, man. Someone's gonna leave crying. Just hope it aint you."


	7. Ch. 7

Beth jogged down to her dad who was slowly limping up the hill towards her.

"You guys didn't have to do all … this," Beth said, pointing to the crowd.

Hershel mistook her slight sarcasm concerning the small group as a compliment about his, Rick, and Daryl's livestock fence they had built over the previous nights. "Well, we had the time." Hershel smiled. "You remember, we saw those pigs out in the woods. I told Rick we should bring them here."

"Dad, they're feral."

"And we're a farming family. Besides, we could all eat something besides rabbit and squirrel."

Beth grimaced at the mention of rabbit and squirrel. Hershel put his hand on her back and led Beth towards the newly built pen.

"Dad?"

"What, honey?"

"I don't think I can fight like Daryl fights."

Hershel stopped walking and faced Beth. "No one is asking you to fight. I just need you to save yourself when the time comes." Hershel pat Beth on the back and they continued towards the crowd.

Beth walked to Maggie, who bounced Judith on her hip.

"I thought you and Glenn were going on a run," said Beth.

"Well," Maggie started, "We got enough supplies for a few days. I think this is about as close as the prison's ever going to get to a parade. Word spread, fast. Glenn and I volunteered to watch Judith."

Beth said nothing and looked at Judith in the eyes. She brushed Judith's cheek and then poked her in the belly. Judith giggled as she grabbed Beth's finger with her whole hand.

"Ooh, baby's got a strong grip!" Beth said.

Maggie looked over Beth's shoulder and saw Daryl eyeballing them impatiently. "Okay, no babysitting for you today!" She looked over at Glenn. "Hey! Are you ready?" Tyreese and Glenn hurriedly finished up their conversation and gave each other a parting fist bump. Glenn stood up and ran over to Maggie. Carl automatically got up and followed Glenn.

"Dad," Carl yelled to Rick. "Can I stay?" Rick shook his head.

Carl flew his hands by his hips. "Come on, dad!" he pleaded.

Rick shook his head again and mouthed No. Carl's shoulders slumped as he headed up towards the prison.

Maggie looked towards Beth. "Well, that's our cue." She followed Carl up the hill, Judith in tow.

"Hey, you'll do great!" Glenn told Beth. That was the first verbal vote of confidence she had heard all day.

"Thanks Glenn," Beth said. He turned and followed Maggie and Carl back to the prison.

Alone now, she slowly turned towards Daryl. Beth didn't know if he had grew a few inches or if she was standing in a ditch, but Daryl looked ominous, the sun silhouetting Rick on one side and his crossbow on the other.

Beth walked closer to the pen. Summoning her courage, she eyed Daryl and said, "Well, teach me how to use your crossbow."

"You're not touching my crossbow," Daryl said.

"Why? I'm not going to break it!" she said, raising her voice.

He walked closer and leaned in toward Beth's face. "Nobody. Touches. My crossbow," Daryl repeated.

"So I should just kill them with my bare hands?"

Daryl stood tall and walked past Beth, brushing her shoulder. He grabbed a bag from the ground and threw it into the enclosure. Jumping over the railing, he picked up the bag again and dumped the contents into the pen. A stuffed burlap sack tied in the middle with twine tumbled out. Beth saw a shoddily drawn face on one end. Daryl pulled a knife from his back pocket and kneeled next to his masterpiece.

"This," he said, pointing to the sack, "is a walker."

"Did Patrick help you with that?" Beth asked.

Daryl, ignoring the jab, continued, "You stab it, here." Daryl pointed right above what, Beth assumed, was a badly drawn ear. He stood up and walked towards Beth. "It's not as hard as here." He tapped Beth on her forehead.

Hershel frowned. Tyreese and Rick tried not to laugh.

Beth pursed her lips, keeping herself composed. Above the ear kills were common knowledge. Even Lizzie and Mika knew that, thanks to Carol.

Daryl handed her his knife. "You can use this. Stab the walker where you're supposed to." Daryl stepped aside so she had a clear path to the sack, lying on the ground. Is he serious right now? I'm not going to stab a sack with a knife. Beth skimmed a glance towards Tyreese and Rick. She knew they would keel over in laughter as soon as she plunged the knife into the still, lifeless sack.

Beyond the burlap sack, she gazed towards the fence. A lone walker swayed to and fro just outside the barrier. He looked pretty tame compared to the walkers she typically saw emerge from the woods beyond the prison. And he was by himself. Beth had a simple plan forming in her head, but the parts weren't all there.

"C'mon Beth. The sun's getting higher, and we got more to do today," said Daryl. Beth did not want to spend this beautiful day stabbing sacks and wrestling inanimate objects in front of Rick and Tyreese. No way.

Beth waved to Daryl, signifying she heard him. When she turned back to the sack, a metal object lying near the fence caught the sun. Eureka! Beth thought. A ladder.


	8. Ch. 8

After Beth saw the ladder glinting in the sun, she grabbed Daryl's knife from his hand. She stomped to the center of the pen and straddled the burlap sack. Gripping the head of the sack, Beth inserted the blade, and dragged it all the way down. The jovial murmuring of the crowd stopped.

"Beth, you just need to stab it, you don't need to de-gut the damn thing," Daryl said.

Beth ignored him and stood up. She grabbed the sack and emptied it of the rocks and mud and grass Daryl had stuffed inside.

"Beth, is everything okay?" Carol asked.

Beth ignored Carol, and she looked to Daryl. "I'm not a kid. Stop treating me like one." And with that, she tucked the sack underneath her arm, ran to the railing of the pen and side-hopped over it. Not wanting anyone to talk to her out her plan, Beth continued in a mad dash to the ladder.

Rick and Daryl froze, not quite sure of Beth's endgame. Hershel stood out of the chair and yelled after his daughter.

Tyreese saw Beth heading for the ladder he had used to mend the fence a few days ago. "I think she's heading for the ladder."

"What would she want with the ladder?" asked Daryl.

"She's proving a point," said Rick, as he took off towards the fence. Daryl followed close behind.

Beth had reached the ladder and was already hoisting it up on the fence by the time she heard Rick and her dad yelling for her to stop. Pushing on the ladder and making sure the legs were steady, Beth felt confident it wasn't going anywhere. She stomped up the ladder. At the top, she threw the burlap sack over the first tier of barbwire. She straddled the fence, ducking under the 2nd tier of barbwire. Beth couldn't remember the last time she was this free and this far from the ground. She felt a little giddy as she kicked her other leg over the fence and started her descent. Her toes easily fit in the chain link fence. She was already on the ground outside the prison while Rick was still running towards the fence. The walker, noticing the commotion, stumbled towards Beth.

Daryl rushed past Rick and onto the ladder. "I'll get her. Stay on this side."

Rick ran alongside the fence. He caught Beth's gaze.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Rick asked. He felt like a hostage negotiator, trying to buy Daryl some time.

Beth caught her breath and said, "It's fine. I got this."

Rick walked closer to the fence, resting his fingers inside the chain links. "Beth, come back over the fence. You got time."

Beth paused and eyed Rick. He thought she might be entertaining the idea of abandoning her reckless plan. She turned back towards the group and checked on Daryl's progression. He was almost to the top of the ladder. This time, Beth avoided Rick's gaze as she headed towards the walker.

The wind changed direction, and the walker's smell hit Beth like a Mack truck – rotting egg and dead fish. She hunched her shoulders, getting into, what she imagined would be, a somewhat-convincing fighting position. Daryl's knife in one hand, she swatted flies and gnats away with the other. As the walker staggered closer, Beth saw a sharp angle in his shin. The walker lurched side-to-side, shuffling closer to Beth.

Daryl kicked his leg over the top of the fence. He cursed as he held the bottom layer of barbwire away from his pants.

Rick looked up and noticed Daryl was moving through the barbwire a little slower than Beth. "You good?" he asked.

"Yes," Daryl said through gritted teeth. Rick saw Daryl wobble over the pinnacle of the fence as his foot reached towards a toehold on the other side. Finally finding a manageable position, Daryl arched his back and slid the rest of his body through the opening. "Goddammit," he cursed as wire clawed into his shoulder. He started climbing down the opposite side of the fence.

Adrenaline coursed through Rick's body, yet standing behind the fence, watching the battle go down on the other side, his inability to help immobilized Rick. He was nothing more than a little kid watching the snakes play behind the glass at the zoo. Seconds felt like hours. "Hurry," he said.

"Yeah, I got it."

As the walker closed its distance, Beth noticed he was a bit taller than he looked from inside the prison. Clenching the knife in her fist, she didn't think she could easily reach the walker's head before he attacked. His leg was damaged, but the rest of him looked pretty capable. She was surprised by the frantic, but speedy, swings of his arms. She had to get the walker lower, to the ground. Then she'd kill it. Piece of cake. People kill walkers all the time.

Hearing Daryl's cursing, Beth knew if she was going to prove herself, she was running out of time. She ran up to the walker and kicked at the bend in its shin. The bones were brittle, and Beth felt something completely fracture. The walker's decayed pants ripped and exposed his putrid, grey-brown flesh. Another wave of stench hit Beth in the face as she regained her balance from the kick. But like a tree chopped the wrong way, the walker toppled towards Beth. Not in the plan, she thought. At the end of his fall, the walker caught Beth's pant leg in his knobby hands, and she fell down shortly after. Beth landed with a thud, and the knife flew from her grasp. Oh no. For the first time today, Beth was scared for her life. She made a hectic promise to God, the one everyone makes when their lives are in jeopardy, the one the remainder forgets after they make it out alive:

I promise I will be yours forever, if you only save me. Just this one time.


	9. Ch. 9

Carol and Tyreese joined Rick as he walked along the fence and swore under his breath. How does she not know the walker is going to fall in the direction of her kick? They saw Beth panic, and she flailed her legs in the direction of the walker. Three other dead appeared from the dark, dank woods and were slowly making their way, ready to join the dogpile.

Daryl dropped from the fence and landed with a thud on the ground. He silently ran towards Beth as she kicked at the walker with her other foot. "Let go," she pleaded. Beth's boot finally landed squarely on the walker's forehead, and she saw its head jolt back. But the walker held on.

Daryl grabbed the walker's clothes and pulled it to its side. Still holding onto Beth, the walker snarled at Daryl, snapping at his hand. Daryl stood back up, recoiled his leg and stomped the heel of his boot into the walker's nose. Beth instinctively turned her head, avoiding the spray of blood heading in all directions. The walker released Beth's leg.

"Daryl!" Rick warned.

Daryl turned around and leaned back as a hand swatted at his face. He stepped to the side of the walker and kicked him to the ground. The cries of the dead emanated from the woods a few yards away. Ten more emerged from the protective cover of the trees. Countless more could be heard from the shadows in a discordant symphony of moans, groans, and rustling leaves. Daryl grabbed Beth and pulled her off the ground. "Run" is all he said.

They raced towards the fence. Daryl hit the fence and immediately started climbing up.

"Wait," said Beth. She ran back to the dead walker, to find Daryl's knife she dropped.

"Beth, no! Leave it!" Rick said.

Beth ignored Rick and searched frantically for the knife. The walker Daryl had kicked was steadying itself back on its knees. With the other two seemingly more interested in Daryl, Beth only concerned herself with the immediate threat. She gave him a swift kick. His arms flailed to the right, but he stayed on his knees. Frustrated, she ran behind the walker and pushed him in the middle of the back. His chest jutted forward, and he fell to the ground. Lacking the instinct to protect his face, the walker's head dropped heavily onto the rocky mud that encircled the prison. She ran back towards the dead walker, determined to find Daryl's knife.

She dropped to her knees so she could push the growing grass out of the way. Frustrated, Rick hit the fence with both fists. "Beth, it's not worth it," Rick argued. Over half the walkers were well out of the woods.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I have to do this."

Daryl, focused on fitting his feet into the small openings of the chain link fence, did not notice his rescue was still in the middle of danger. Rick ran to Daryl, shaking the fence. Daryl stopped climbing and saw Beth on the ground, searching through the weeds. He looked at Rick, "Are you serious?"

"Go get her," Rick yelled, pointing to Beth.

Daryl rolled his eyes. One of the walker's head was conveniently near his boot. Daryl pushed his heel into its face. The walker stumbled back like a puppet, arms flailing like the Macy's Thanksgiving parade balloons. Daryl leapt back down to the ground. He swiped the stumbling walker's legs from underneath him. A nearby female walker lurked closer to Daryl, her shoulders twitching with each step. For a walker, she looked aged, and her face looked soft enough. Daryl recoiled his fist and punched her forehead. The skull felt like paper mache, and it collapsed with little effort. She slumped to the ground, writhing as her head leaked from her skull. Daryl shook his hand off as he hurried towards Beth.

"To your right," Carol said, pointing.

Beth turned towards the fence and saw the glimmer of metal, peeking through the long grass. She leaned and grabbed the knife. "Got it," she said triumphantly. She looked back towards the woods and was surprised to see another walker, this one with a missing eye, not three feet away from her. His knees rubbed back and forth as he lumbered closer to Beth, arms floating by his side. A line of others somberly marched behind. Tyreese and Carol started banging on the fence, trying to sidetrack the roaming dead. But the walkers closing in on Beth paid no attention to the distracting noises. Tyreese stopped and ran towards a pile of tools.

Beth rose. Her mind raced, but her legs froze. She felt Daryl yank her arm back, wrenching her out of her trance. She jammed his knife into her back pocket and scrambled to the fence, Daryl close behind. Beth scaled up the fence quickly and found herself about eight feet above ground, out of the immediate danger of most walkers. She turned towards Daryl and realized he was barely to her knees.

"Hurry, Daryl," Beth said.

He looked up at her. "We're not all size 7.5s, okay?"

Daryl climbed another few inches when he missed a step and suddenly slipped down. A walker seized Daryl's ankle. He gritted his teeth as he clung to the metal fence. Every time a new walker reached them, Beth felt the fence sway back and forth. Daryl's arms tensed as he thrashed his leg back and forth, trying to shake the walker free, but it hung on and another clawed at his foot. Beth saw three, then four, then five hands scraping and clinging onto Daryl's boot, some hands wrapping around his calf. Daryl's forearms turn into a sinewy map as every vein struggled to hang onto the dancing fence. The walkers' ghoulish eyes stared up at Beth, or Daryl, or the sky. She couldn't tell.

With their heads cocked back and mouth agape, the walkers wailed as they lurched up towards them. Beth was high enough, and they could not reach her. She tried to lean down and help Daryl but she didn't know what to do. Beth weakly pulled his vest up towards her, trying to alleviate some of his weight. But the vest just slid up Daryl's body, more of a nuisance than a help.

"Beth," Rick said. She stayed focused on Daryl. "Beth," Rick repeated, yelling a little louder. She searched for the voice and then found Rick. "The knife. Drop it." He was so calm, like he had a plan. Like he could take this mess they were in and make everything better. Like he could rewind time, and this day would have never happened at all. "Drop it," he repeated. Beth nodded in agreement. She let go of Daryl's vest and reached into her back pocket. She grabbed the knife.

"Hurry," Daryl said through clenched teeth.

Rick reached both arms up, willing the knife to him as she poked it through the fence. Behind Rick, she could see Tyreese heading back with a long and slender, metal pole.

Beth dropped the knife, and Rick picked it off the ground. He started stabbing at the walkers' wrists. Rick's hands couldn't fit through the links and the knife was too short to do any major damage, but Daryl's elbows bent ever so slightly as the weight pulling him down shifted. Daryl groaned, but was able to pull himself inches higher. But when Rick stabbed one walker's hand away, another quickly replaced it.

"Move," said Tyreese. Carol moved back, and Rick stepped to the side. Tyreese's head moved side to side as he tried to find which walker had his hand firmly on Daryl's calf. He lunged the metal rod through one of the walker's eye. A hand holding onto a small edge of Daryl's pant leg fell away.

"The bald one," Carol said. Tyreese eyes bulged as he pinpointed the walker.

"I see you, sucker," Tyreese said, and he impaled the rod into the bald walker. Daryl immediately felt the weight lift as the walker's hand fell away. With that kill, Daryl pulled himself out of the despairing grasps of the walkers. He climbed up the fence, angry and tired. When he reached Beth, Daryl was ready to start an argument, 10 feet up in the air, on the fence. He saw Beth still staring down at the clamoring crowd of walkers leaning and pawing at them.

"Hey!" said Daryl. Beth looked at him, her face masked in horror. Daryl instantly softened. In this moment, he could think of all the things Merle would have said, but none of those seemed right to say to a girl. He'd yell at her later. "Let's get back inside the fence, okay?"

Beth found her voice. "Okay," she said. She took a quick glimpse to the top. Only about 5 feet.

"Ugh," she said as one of her hands let go of its death grip on the fence. Her fingers were numb. She stretched and closed her hand, feeling sensation painfully returning.

As she started her ascent again, the chain link now felt like thin wire, cutting off the circulation over and over again in her hands. The fence slowly moved back and forth as the walkers ebbed and flowed together, like an ocean or a beating heart. Reaching the top, she saw the burlap sack offered little to no protection in its current position. She adjusted the sack, tripling it over in some parts to protect from the barbwire. Daryl waited as she primped and primed the sack.

"We don't have to sleep on it. Fix it and go," Daryl finally said.

Beth, knowing she shouldn't press her luck, made one more adjustment and then swung her leg over the burlap protecting her legs from the barbwire. Nothing stuck her, and she ducked under the wire above. It caught her braid. Are you serious right now? She tried to reach behind her head to unhook her braid, but she needed both hands to balance as she straddled the railing. The fence shifted, and she felt Daryl climb closer. His hand rested on the top of the fence, towards her feet. She felt him behind her as he leaned across and unhooked her braid from the wire. Feeling free from the wire, Beth just wanted to get off the fence and run back into her room. She kicked her leg onto the safe side of the fence, hitting Daryl in the face.

"Sorry!" Beth instinctively said. Her apology came out angry and accusatory; she was annoyed, humiliated, and completely done with this day.

Daryl hooked his arm over the railing and felt his lip to check for blood. The only things on his fingers were dirt, grime, and dried walker guts.

Beth, now opposite Daryl, knew her face was beet red. "Here, I'll hold up the wire for you" she weakly offered.

He looked at her, his whole face tightened, trying to prevent an eruption. "Sure," he said.

Beth's hands burned. She didn't expect Mr. I Can Handle It to say yes, and she was doubting two of her hands could hold onto this fence any longer, much less one. She mirrored Daryl and hooked her armpit over the fence. I can do this. She used her other hand to lift the barbwire as best she could. It didn't move very much, but Daryl didn't see that. He was already moving under the wire to her side. Once on the other side, he hooked the railing of the fence under his armpit, and they were face to face.

Beth felt like the last kid picked for dodgeball. No, worse than that. The kid that got the dodgeball to the face. The one that went home crying with the broken nose.

Not wanting any tears on the fence, Daryl looked down and said, "Hey Rick, can you hold the ladder for us?"

Rick moved the ladder under Beth. He held both arms of the ladder with his hands and also pressed his foot onto the ladder, securing it to the ground. "Got it. Come on down, Beth," he said. The walkers provided a cacophony of moans and cries as Tyreese plunged the rod into them, one by one. Beth scaled lower, closer to the ladder. The fence swaying with the motion of the walkers, Beth found the top rung of the ladder with her foot. She had been flying underneath the barbwire, then dancing on the fence, and now she was on this stable ladder, progressing closer to the solid earth. Rick moved to the side as Beth jumped off the ladder. Her dad had made his way to the fence, and he gave her a firm hug. They pulled apart, and Beth gave him an apologetic smile.

No one immediately said anything as Daryl made his way down the ladder. Beth knew they were glad she was safe, but she also knew someone was dreaming up a lecture inside their head.

She excused herself before Daryl got to the ground and hurried back to the prison.


	10. Ch. 10

The sky darkened to a deep blue, and Beth was starving. Emerging from hibernation in her cell, she snuck down the steps to grab a bite to eat. 

Most people, winding down from the day, had fabric pulled in front of their cell doors. Beth could hear whispers from Karen’s cell. Tyreese and Karen’s shadows danced from a candle lit inside. She saw the outline of Karen shake as giggles emerged from the cell. It reminded Beth of high school and all the first loves budding in homeroom, before the 1st bell rang. Her stomach tightened and almost growled, and Beth’s attention turned back to food. 

She tiptoed to the prison corridor and ran into the kitchen. Beth fished through the cabinets. _No salads with tomatoes and green peppers on the menu tonight. Looks like it’s going to be canned food or … canned food._ There had been talks of planting a garden at the prison. Until they found seed though, her dad’s farming experience was about as useful as a guitar player without their guitar. 

Beth crinkled her nose as she pushed a few cans of Vienna Sausages to the side. She wasn’t _that hungry._ The Spaghettios were also off limits. There was an unspoken rule those were reserved for anyone under the age of thirteen. The mac and cheese looked appetizing but it was too much for one person. Plus, boiling water was a hassle. Beth found some kidney beans. _That’ll work_ , she thought. 

Carol had cooked earlier. She would have put food aside for Beth if she had asked. But Beth didn’t ask. And everyone had stayed away after “the incident”. Was it out of respect, giving her space? Or was everyone just _that_ disinterested in her? She wasn’t sure sometimes. Beth pushed the negative thought aside before it had time to root. She grabbed the beans. 

Opening them up with Daryl’s knife, the juice flicked her in the face. “Gross,” she said to herself, wiping her face. Digging through the drawers, Beth found a fork. She hopped on the counter, the stars shining through the window providing light and the insects providing background music to her dinner for one. 

While digging in the can for another bite, Maggie walked in and tickled Beth on her sides. Beth shot in the air, dropping her fork and almost sliding off the counter. “You scared the bejeezus out of me, Maggie!” 

Maggie picked up Beth’s fork and handed it to her. “You’re so jumpy. I’m glad I found you though. I’ve been dying to hear about your escape from Alcatraz.” 

“Don’t, Mags. I’m not in the mood,” said Beth. 

“What? I just want to hear what happened straight from the horse’s mouth.” Maggie paused. “Carol told me bits and pieces.” 

Beth paused eating and looked at Maggie. 

Maggie grinned. Beth was so easy to break. “She might have told me you went all runaway on them and hopped the fence to kill a walker. But it went fantastically wrong.” 

Beth put her beans down and covered her face with her hands. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Maggie walked over to Beth and grabbed the beans. She said, “Well, yeah. These beans are a year past their expiration date.” Beth snatched the beans from Maggie. “What?” she said. “I’m just trying to save you from digestive problems later.” 

“Whatever,” said Beth. 

Maggie leaned up against the counter, waiting for Beth to spill everything. “Look, my dinner date canceled on me, so I got all night.” 

“Did dad ever tell you you’re adopted?” Beth asked, trying to change the subject. 

“That’s my line,” Maggie said. “You can’t take my joke. That’s, like, stealing. C’mon. Tell me!”

Beth put her food down and looked at her hands resting on her thighs. She exhaled and said, “Fine. You get three questions.” 

“Is it true? Did you jump the fence?” Maggie asked. 

Beth grinned. “Well, I didn’t leap it or anything. I used the ladder.” 

Maggie snickered. She then lower her gazed, looked back up at Beth and asked, “Why?” 

Beth took a big breath. “I don’t know, Mags. It was like that walker was there, and the ladder was there, and I knew I couldn’t stay in that stupid pen with Daryl’s stupid burlap sack, stabbing it like some stupid kid playing cowboys and Indians.” She paused, it hardly even made sense to her. “And then when I got out there … everything got so serious, so fast.” 

Maggie gave Beth a sympathetic nod. 

Beth sighed and shook her head. “I’m just . . . tired?” She looked at Maggie, brows furrowed. 

“Tired of what, babe?” 

“Tired of people treating me like a kid when it matters.” Beth stared back at her fingers. “People think I can’t handle this world. But I can.” 

“I know you … ,” Maggie said, walking closer to Beth. 

But Beth sat up a little taller and continued talking. “And Maggie, I’m still here. So that automatically makes me a survivor.” Maggie nodded and rested her hand on Beth’s back, listening. Beth continued, “And if people keep protecting me, I’m not gonna learn. And the more people protect me, and the more time passes, the more afraid I get. If they think I can’t handle it, then I start to wonder ‘What if I can’t?’ I start to believe them, ya know?” She looked at Maggie. “I push those thoughts back though. Because I know I got a chance in this world.” 

Maggie nodded, then reached around and gave Beth a hug. Beth nestled her chin in Maggie’s shoulder and closed her eyes, savoring what was becoming more and more uncommon – the feeling of another human’s touch. 

Maggie pulled away. “Hey, why don’t you come with me and Glenn when we go on that run?” 

“There’s not enough room in the car for me, you, Glenn, the weapons, and the supplies,” Beth said.

Maggie rolled her eyes, “We can take another car. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Yeah, and waste gas?” 

“We have gas. We have that tanker truck that broke down not two miles away. We have all that gas we’ve siphoned out of cars. And if push comes to shove, Daryl knows of a gas station.” Beth looked doubtful. “Low supply, but low demand. Until walkers learn how to drive, we got gas.”

“Well, dad won’t go for it.” 

“What are you talking about? He was the one who set this whole thing up!” 

“Yeah, but that was inside the fence. In a controlled environment. Not out there. In an uncontrolled environment. And dad would freak if it were just me, you and Glenn out there.” 

“What’s wrong with me, you and Glenn?” Maggie asked defensively. 

Beth backpedaled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Glenn is great. And capable. It’s just, well, you know how dad is.” Beth picked her beans back up and took a bite, hoping Maggie moved past the accidental insult. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle dad. Glenn and I found a subdivision that looked pretty solid. Not a lot of busted windows and destruction. We even saw toys in the front yards. I don’t think those houses have _ever_ been raided. Could you imagine?” Maggie paused, thinking about the possible valuables just sitting, gathering dust, in those houses. “I bet there’s tons of food, diapers, and – God willing – chocolate. If I’m right, we’ll need two cars and probably the trailer to bring it all back. It would be a great haul.”

Beth bubbled with excitement. “That sounds so fun!” she said. “Clothes?” 

Maggie smiled and nodded, “Tons of clothes, I bet. But, we were pretty far out. It’s gotta be in the boonies. But Glenn is so good with directions. He could find it again.” 

Beth, just moments ago, was lost in the expansive valley of social despair. Now, she dreamed of this future treasure hunt with Maggie and Glenn. She closed her eyes and pictured herself in some country girl’s prom dress, tiara on her head. Or, even better, a guitar and another pair of boots. “It would be like Christmas! We could bring things back for the kids, too!” She opened her eyes and turned to Maggie, “Talk to dad. I ruined that shirt you got me today anyways,” she grinned.


	11. Ch. 11

"Well, that was an unmitigated, fucking disaster," Rick said to Daryl. Hershel and Sasha sat around the table in the prison library, while Tyreese leaned against a shelf, arms folded at his chest.

"Yeah, you're telling me," Daryl scoffed. "Blondie lured me outside the fence without any weapons."

Sasha looked at Daryl, "What did you expect? You had the poor thing fighting something that holds potatoes. Maybe next time we'll bring back a blow up doll so you can do more object lessons."

Daryl glared at Sasha. "At least a burlap sack can't degut what's-her-face."

"Yeah, so you destroyed her confidence. Great trade," Sasha said as she shook her head. "The fact is: you embarrassed her. And I knew after my parents embarrassed me, in front of my friends, I was sneakin' out that night."

"Aint that the truth," Tyreese said.

Sasha looked over her shoulder, towards her brother, giving him a warning glance.

"Sasha's right. I knew Bethie was expecting something a little less…. " Hershel paused, trying to find a diplomatic word. "Structured."

"What were you thinking, man?" Rick asked Daryl. "You couldn't find a dilapidated walker? There's a shit ton of them out there."

"You guys said that pen was for pigs. You think pigs can wallow around in walker blood and not get infected?"

Hershel looked at Daryl. "You know it don't work like that. It's from the bite. Hell, Glenn said him and Rick was covered in the damn stuff in Atlanta and didn't turn."

Daryl pointed to himself and said, "Well, I ain't gonna make that bet." He paused. "And I'm not going to be responsible for blondie dying on my watch." The room stood in silence. Daryl waved his hand, dismissive of the group. "I said my peace. I did what I did, and I'm done talking about it."

Rick leaned towards Daryl. "Hey man," he said. "No one's blaming no one." Sasha softly cleared her throat.

"You got something to say, Woodbury girl? Say it," Daryl yelled. Tyreese uncrossed his arms and stood up straight.

Sasha shook her head. "No! Not to you, Daryl. But, to the rest of you, this place is going up in flames like all the other places I've been in. If it's not because of the walkers on the outside, it's going to be because of the people on the inside. I've met a whole lotta nice guys, and how many of them are around today? Huh, how many?!" Sasha shook her head. "You know, Tyreese and I thought we had it good in Woodbury. And we had the wool pulled over our eyes. For you guys to have the audacity to  _think_  you can keep everyone protected here blows my mind. That girl will probably have a better chance with the walkers than with some of the people inside this place."

Hershel cleared his throat and spoke gently. "This ain't Woodbury, Sasha." He reached across the table towards Sasha. "I know you and Tyreese are good people. I can." Hershel lifted his hand and patted his chest, " … feel it. We wouldn't have let you in here if we didn't trust you." Sasha's face softened. Hershel continued, and his gaze moved to Daryl. "At the end of the day, she's just a girl. Beth's just a girl. She didn't mean to spite anybody. She obviously thinks she's got something to prove. And that wasn't Daryl's fault. It was no one's fault. She's figuring it out like all of us. And today, I think she learned a lot. God help us if we didn't learn something from today. And, and I saw Daryl and all of you guys rally around her and save her from her self."

The room stood silent. Grateful the tension was temporarily eased, Tyreese started to clap and finally said, "Yo, yo, The Master has spoken."

Rick put his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Hey man, from me too. Thanks. Someone had to do that, and it was you."

Daryl reached for the door knob. Growing up, Daryl never did anything right. Walkers and ripped pants and all, he'd take yesterday over 90% of the ones with his piece of shit dad. He turned back towards Rick and Hershel. "It was nothing," he said.

Daryl felt the knob twist in his hand, and Maggie tumbled in. "Woah, what is going on in here? Did you guys issue out some nuclear launch codes or something?" Maggie asked.

"No, no, nothing like that," Hershel groaned as he got out of his chair and walked towards Maggie. Daryl walked out while they hugged.

Sasha exhaled. "I need some air. C'mon Tyreese." He obliged and tailed Sasha out the room.

Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "Wow, I know how to clear a room. Do I stink? I washed … 2 days ago."

"We all stink," Hershel joked.

Rick headed to the door, but Maggie stopped him. "No, no. You come back, Grimes. I need to talk to the both of you."

Rick walked back to Maggie and Hershel. They stood in a tight circle.

"Before you ask, yes, this is about Beth. And before you say no, hear me out," Maggie said to her dad. Rick's hand automatically went to his temples and rubbed his forehead.

"Did Beth learn anything about walkers today?" Maggie asked.

"A little," Rick said.

"What?" Maggie countered.

"Well. Maggie. They're nothing to mess around with."

"Okay, she already knew that. So that was a horrible answer."

Rick glimpsed at Hershel. "Is Judith going to end up like this?" he said, pointing to Maggie.

"Umm," she interrupted, raising her finger at Rick. "You can only hope."

Rick put his hands up, surrendering.

"Dad, do you want Beth defenseless against walkers for the rest of her life?"

Hershel sighed and crossed his arms. "C'mon Maggie. Don't try and trap me with twenty questions. Get to the point."

Maggie took a deep inhale. "Okay. Hear me out. Glenn and I were at this place, up a little north. And we didn't hear any walkers. Like, zero walkers. We didn't have too much time to check things out, but the one house we walked into had lots of stuff. That's where we got that medicine a few weeks ago, actually – all from that house. We just didn't have time to stay because we were losing daylight. Glenn and I, we are going back. And there's so much stuff there, we're going to need two cars. I'm talking about a  _huge_  haul here." Maggie widened her hands, pretending to hold a large bag, for effect.

"So where does Beth come in?" Rick asked.

"Beth is coming with us," Maggie immediately said.

"No, no, no," said Hershel. "I'm not letting her go with you and Glenn into a place that's never been scouted before."

"Dad, there's nothing there! It's a little subdivision. They had lawnmowers and Radio Flyers in the yards. There's no evidence it was ever disturbed. We'd be crazy  _not_  to check it out." Maggie paused, "And Rick is coming too. I don't trust any of those Woodbury people with something like this. We need Rick." Rick blinked, trying to comprehend what he just heard. Maggie continued, "I mean, Daryl might be an option. He's good with cars, and we're gonna need two of them." Maggie shook her head, pretending to hammer out all the details. "But Rick is probably better considering all that happened yesterday." Maggie exhaled loudly and smiled. The plan was to make everything sound light-hearted, planned out, and foolproof. Just an all-around fun adventure.

They didn't look convinced.

Maggie backhanded Rick's arm. "It's probably going to be hard to find walkers there, but we'll find them. And while we give Beth some real-world experience, it'll help you hammer out Walker 101. You gotta train Carl some time. And probably the other kids too. We'll turn them into walker fighting machines." Maggie laughed. But Rick looked away, and Hershel furrowed his brows.

When no one said anything, Maggie turned serious. "Guys, she already knows about it. So unless you lock her in the cell or something, we're leaving in two days. We don't need two cars. We can take the truck." Maggie turned around and started to leave the room.

"Maggie …" Hershel warned.

She turned around. "Dad, you've always babied her." Maggie then looked at Rick, "And, before she died, I promised Lori I'd take care of Judith. But it's not me. It's Beth. So you stay here, Rick. Don't let the Greene's inconvenience you."

 _Sometimes you gotta play hardball_ , Maggie thought as she slung the door open and stomped out.

Rick looked at Hershel and said, "What the hell was that?"

Hershel rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "She's acting like it's a done deal. I don't like when they do that ganging up on me thing. That girl has her mom in her all right." He paused, and then looked at Rick. "Do you think it's a good idea? Are you game?"

Rick thought,  _No and no_. "Yeah," he said. Rick weakly smiled, while Hershel patted him on the shoulder.

"Good," Hershel said. He walked past Rick and continued talking. "I don't want Beth running around with just Glenn and Maggie in the woods." He stopped next to Rick's shoulder, "And I don't want anything happening to Beth." Hershel lowered his voice to a whisper and joked, " _Bring her back with all her appendages_." He patted Rick on the shoulder and walked out of the room.


	12. The Trap

“Hey, man,” Daryl said. “Have you seen who big ole’ Tyreese been hittin’ up?”

Rick sat on the floor against a wall, one leg bent with his arm propped up on his knee. “Karen?” Rick guessed.

“Yeah,” said Daryl, parked on a crate. “Karen.”

“They’ve been messing around a long time. You jealous? I can take care of Tyreese for ya.” Rick pointed at Daryl, a beer in his hand.

Daryl coughed through his amusement. “Naw man, it ain’t nothing like that.”

“I’m surprised Sasha lets him talk to other women.”

Daryl smirked. “Yeah, she got a tight grip on Tyreese.”

Rick said nothing and took a sip.  Daryl’s face filled with a devilish grin. Rick cocked his head to the side, “What?”

“In a few years, Lizzie and Mika will be knockin’ on your cell.” Rick scoffed. But Daryl continued - hands by his face, pretending to be hair - raised his voice and said, “’Rick? Oh Rick, could you kill this walker for me?’”

“Shit,” Rick said as he shook his head.

“Okay, if that ain’t up your alley. Why don’t you bring a dress back for Glenn? Get you something a little older to play with.”

“Something’s wrong with you, boy,” Rick said, smiling. He played along and wiggled his bottle. “Maybe after two more of these.”

Daryl shrugged. “More for me, then.”

Rick lifted his head back to Daryl and squinted. “I think Glenn’s a commitment type of person. We might need to grab a walker for you,” Rick offered.

Daryl threw his finished drink into an empty crate. “Bring back one of them pretty ones. Get one that still got patches of hair, most of the skin.”

Rick laughed and nodded. “Will do.”

They let the end of their conversation dissipate through the room. Rick and Daryl were in a completely different cell block than the rest of the group. No one knew about their hiding spot – “The Trap”, as they called it. Rick initially named the room “Walkertraz” as a joke. “What? We’re at a prison, and there are walkers,” he had said, kicking one nearby. But whenever Daryl was bored or bothered, he’d ask Rick to meet him in The Trap, and the name just stuck. 

The Trap was small. It had no windows, two wobbly chairs, a desk, and twenty blank monitors one of the walls. Rick knew it used to be some sort of control room for the monitoring system at the prison. Instead of transmitting the daily activities of an active prisoner community, now the monitors merely reflected twenty greyscale, lantern-lit versions of Rick and Daryl.

Rick finally broke the silence. “This must be what Prohibition felt like.” He took a sip of beer. “Limited supply.”

“But beer’s a lot cheaper these days,” Daryl said as he leaned up against the wall.

“Safer than the water too. Ain’t no bacteria in beer.”

Daryl nodded. “I’ll drink to that. Throw me another.” Rick opened the crate next to him, and containers of booze clinked together. He tossed a bottle of warm beer to Daryl, who snatched it from the air. Daryl placed the beer cap onto the edge of the scratched desk, popped the cap with the heel of his hand, and was met with the satisfying release of captive air pressure. The guys then sat in a comfortable silence, okay with the open spaces between their conversations.

Daryl drank from the bottle and relaxed his head back against the cement wall. No demands would be asked of them here.

To get into the room, you needed two keys because there were two doors, one right after the other. When electricity was flowing through the prison, Rick had told Daryl that cameras would identify who wanted in. If you were approved, someone would press a button that would unlock the first door. You’d walk in, wait for that door to shut, and now you were trapped between the two doors inside a small holding room. The second door had a window. Someone on the inside would do that final check, looking into your eyes, before letting you enter through the second door.

With no electricity running through the building, you could only enter the room with keys. Rick found the keys on a dead walker. Daryl then figured out the doors that two of those keys opened. They were not locked inside The Trap, but the rest of the world was locked away from them.

No one, except for a few of the Woodbury children, ever noticed Daryl or Rick walking down to the distant cell block. The children were too afraid to follow Daryl closely, so they just made up stories about what the guys exactly did in the distant cell block.

 _There’s hundreds of walkers tied to ropes. They fight them there!_  Luke had guessed.

_There’s no walkers here. They're hiding food! I’m telling Tyreese._

_No Molly, they probably have girlfriends there,_  Mika would say. And then they’d squeal in disgust that morphed into fits of giggles.

But Daryl was just slowly building up a small stash of alcohol in The Trap. And Rick was just using the alcohol as an excuse to step away from the responsibilities of the prison. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” Daryl finally asked Rick.

Rick’s head rocked back as he laughed. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind a few days ago. But,” Rick shrugged, “I guess we all need to do our part. What’re you gonna do tomorrow?” Rick heard his words running into one another. Even cheap booze did the trick these days.

“Probably prep my motorcycle to go rescue y’all’s asses when Beth does something stupid,” Daryl joked.

Sasha’s words repeated in Rick’s head.  _You embarrassed her … you destroyed her confidence_. “How yesterday played out … that got made into a bigger spectacle than it needed to be.” He paused, then finally said, “You could still go tomorrow. Y’all can work some things out, I can –“.

“No,” Daryl stopped Rick. Beth’s positive attitude inadvertently ridiculed Daryl’s position in life, the way he had to carry on to make it through his childhood days. Beth's biggest struggle before the apocalypse, according to Daryl, was the big, bright bonfire blurring the view of the cute guy across the way during that one Halloween party. Or how long strands of hair would get in her face when she was having a "serious" argument with her boyfriend. Daryl was thankful when his dad landed a bad punch. “Me and Beth ain’t on the same page about things.”

Rick shrugged, “You might be equal parts stubborn.”

“Beth walks around doe-eyed all the time. Like she ain’t even seen any real shit before.” Daryl took a long, bitter gulp of booze, then shook his head. “She ain’t like Maggie.”

Surprisingly, Daryl’s comment stung. But Rick knew he had a point. Maggie was bossy, strong-willed, and fearless. Beth seemed childlike and trusted too easily. Days like yesterday, she flat out displayed reckless abandon and did not listen to people who knew better. “But maybe Maggie was once like her,“ Rick finally said.

Daryl, unconvinced, just shrugged his shoulders. “And then you’re going with Maggie _and_  Glenn? I’ve been on runs with Glenn. He makes it back lightning-fast when it’s just me and him. Going on a run with him and Maggie? No sir, I ain’t on that honeymoon.” He leaned over to Rick and slapped his knee. “It’s your turn, brother.”

Rick groaned inwardly. He looked up and tapped the back of his head against the cement wall. He finally rolled his head towards Daryl. “Hershel says we should be able to farm enough food to cut down on supply runs. Get some pigs and cows.” He looked straight ahead. “Then we just fortify that fence, and things will be gold. We’ll have a home.”

“Sounds boring. The days already move so slow.” Daryl knocked on the cement wall behind him. “But at least if we’re safe in here, we ain’t gotta worry about losing no more people.” Daryl took a moment to think about Merle. Then images of Andrea, T-Dog, and Dale started to form in his mind. Daryl cleared his throat, fighting the ghosts back.

“Yeah,” Rick said. “I guess it’ll be nice to go back to basics. Farming for food. Having Carol teach the kids some sort of schooling. Getting a good schedule going. Not running all the time and worrying about where you’re gonna sleep at night.”

“Well, if that day comes, I’m still going to ride that motorcycle ‘til the last gallon of gas is ripped out of this Georgia clay. How else we gonna find that dress for Glenn?”

Rick laughed. “You bastard.” He looked at Daryl who was wielding a shit-eating grin. Rick then saw Shane in his sheriff’s uniform, giving him a similar cock-eyed smirk.

“You alright, man?” Daryl asked.

Rick squinted his eyes as Daryl merged back into focus. He waved his hand and said, “Yeah, I was just … thinking.” He took a long swig from his bottle. Rick finished the drink and tossed it in the crate. “You know, anyone else, I would have told them ‘No’.” He looked at Daryl. He felt his chest burn. "But Hershel, his daughter watches my kids. So now I gotta watch his. I at least owe him that.”

Daryl’s threw back the rest of his drink. “Yeah, I’m just part teasin’ about Beth. Y’all be fine. You’re good out there.” He stood up and adjusted the buckle on his pants. “Piss time?”

“Yeah, piss time.”

* * *

Beth laid everything out on her desk. She took a mental catalogue – knife, revolver, bullets, beef jerky (divvied up into four Ziploc bags), her journal, pencil, three hair ties, and a crossbody bag to put it all in. She stuffed everything into the bag and then picked up her scriptures, picking up where she left off.

“The Revelation of St John the Divine, Chapter 9, Verse 6,” Beth read to herself. “And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it, and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them.”

The smile vanished from Beth’s face as she closed her scriptures.  _Well, one verse will have to do for tonight_ , she thought. Beth knelt down and said a quick prayer, asking for safety and blessings bestowed upon her family, old and new.

She blew out her lantern and then crawled into bed as anticipation for the supply run sent waves of enthusiasm coursing through her body. Tomorrow was going to be a great day for a road trip. 

 


	13. Stifled

"Alright dad, we'll be back tomorrow by sundown. Don't you worry about a thing," Maggie said, grabbing Hershel's shoulder. Beth felt like she was embarking on her first spend-the-night party, escaping from the drollness of daily post-apocalyptic prison life. She marveled at her sister, so confident and unwavering, so matter-of-fact.  _There's too much in motion, Papa. I am departing on an escapade. You can't stop me from growing up any longer_.

Hershel turned to Beth. "It's this one I'm worried about."

Beth lifted her head, "Dad, stop. I'll be fine." She turned towards Rick, who threw his coat in the backseat and slammed the door shut. Time turned into slow motion as Rick sauntered over like he was the cowboy in a Stetson commercial, the dirt in the air blurring him into a sepia fantasy. Carl obediently waddled behind with hands stuffed inside his pockets, head turned towards his shuffling feet.

"Did you bring a coat? It's getting cold at night." Beth blinked her eyes, as her sister's voice pulled her back into reality.

"Yeah," she muttered. "It's in the car already."

Rick walked up to the Greenes with Carl planting himself in Rick's shadow. Beth was no mind reader, but it looked like Rick had about five other places he wouldd rather be than leaving on this scouting trip.

"How about a weapon? Did you bring one?" Rick asked, frown on his face. Beth wished she could momentarily melt into the ground, Wicked Witch of the East style, and just disappear for a moment. Did he have to be so abrupt?

Instead, Beth lightly cleared her throat and pulled her crossbody bag around her waist to open the flap. As she pulled out a small revolver, Rick snatched it from her hand and expertly opened up the chamber to check the bullets. "It's loaded," she said, after the fact. "I also have this." And she pulled out her hunting knife.

"Look Rick," Maggie said, as she pointed to her sister. "Beth can handle a gun. We got paid to kill gophers on neighbors' farms. She's probably a better shot than Carol." Maggie moved her gaze to Hershel. "And Dad, you're messing with our daylight. We gotta move." Maggie grabbed the revolver from Rick's hand, closed the chamber and handed it back to Beth. "We're leaving in 10 minutes. Y'all better be behind us." Without looking at anyone, Maggie turned and walked towards Glenn and the Dodge truck.

Beth smiled and gently placed the gun back into her bag. Beth shrugged, and she kissed her dad on the cheek. "I'm going to the car," she whispered. Hershel nodded a small approval to Beth, and she walked away.

* * *

Rick, slightly stunned from Maggie's departure, turned his attention to his son. He pulled Carl from his hiding spot, nudging him towards Hershel. "Do what they say," Rick said.

Carl shrugged and didn't move. Rick stared at his son, waiting for a different response. Nothing came. Rick pulled Carl into a hug at his hip. Carl stood there like a lifeless doll. "Carl," Rick said, more of a question.  _Give me something, son_.

He finally pulled away and moved towards Hershel. "Bye dad," he said.

"Don't worry, Rick. We'll take good care of him," Hershel said, resting his hand on Carl's shoulder.

Rick stared at his son for a moment, trying to translate the silence. He looked back at Hershel, into the gentle eyes, and replied, "Yeah, I'll do the same." And he walked away from his responsibility. Maybe the old man could fix what he couldn't.

Rick saw Beth leaning into the car, wiping crumbs from the front seat. And maybe he could show Beth how to handle the world they had hidden from her. _  
_

* * *

The scenery flashed past Beth like they were soaring on a magic carpet. She felt like Princess Jasmine, escaping the safety of her castle to explore the strange, colorful world of Agrabah. She loved her home, the prison, but she had forgotten how road trips could morph her day-to-day problems into pleasant certainties. She had forgotten how the drone of the engine could lull her into a wakeful sleep. She had forgotten how the wind felt when it twirled its fingers through her hair. Beth lightly hummed a song to herself. This road belonged to her.

Rick continued speeding down the country road behind Glenn and Maggie. Beth started fishing paths through the air with her hand.

The temperature felt cooler than normal. The humidity wasn't so bad right now. She knew it was September but she lost track of the days a few months ago. The women in the prison used to keep track of days, but most had stopped. With the excess physical activity and lack of food, monthly cycles no longer loomed in the back of the females' minds. Beth didn't have one all summer. Beth and Maggie's fear never coming to fruition, the tampon stock was the only thing not dwindling in the prison.

The guys seemed to only care about the seasons – rabbit season, bear season, motorcycle season. Beth smiled to herself. Every season was motorcycle season to Daryl. She had remarked to him that it was probably the 1st of September a few days ago, just to start a conversation. And he responded with a grunt. He acknowledged her existence. Progress, she guessed.

She saw outlines of walkers sauntering through the woods, their heads barely turning towards the cars before they were out of view again. The walkers' silhouettes were a continuous reminder that the car was Beth and Rick's lifeline, their spaceship on a dangerous mission to the moon. If they ran out of gas or if a timing belt broke, they could be separated from their loved ones forever, floating in the woods like a stranded astronaut in space.

Her eyes drying out, ruining the peaceful moment she was having with Nature, Beth pulled her arm back into the car. She was tired of straddling her crossbody bag and threw it into the backseat. She paused as she saw Rick's things littered there as well – his Sherpa jacket, messenger bag, a canteen. Above the seat, Beth saw a hunting knife's reflection on the back window. She twisted back around in the front seat and noticed Rick's Colt Python nudged between the seat cushion and the automatic transmission. Maybe she could tease Rick about over-packing, but that could start the trip off on a bad note.  _Does politeness even matter anymore?_  Beth remembered Sasha belching after her meal yesterday and not excusing herself.  _Yes, the past still matters, the way we were before. It matters._

Beth saw Rick's thumb tapping against the wheel, arm tense. She took that as a cue to stop fidgeting. She stilled herself, turning her attention back outside to the grass and the shrubs rushing past, melding into their impressionist blobs of greens and browns.

She was dying to talk to someone. However, Rick wasn't necessarily a chatty Cathy. Lori used to look at Beth through the sides of her eyes, sigh and say, "Rick didn't talk that much  _before_  the walkers came either". Beth wished she had pushed Lori to tell her more about Rick when she had the chance. But now, Lori was gone.

Beth could guess Rick always lived his life half a step away from others. He was always the last to crack a smile, and he would never join in on the prison gossip. He knew the prison could tear itself up from within. Beth had gone through enough of high school to figure this out herself. But Rick was a leader. Maybe he had to stay an arm's length away from everyone to make smart decisions, to separate head decisions from heart decisions. Beth knew she wasn't very good at head decisions. The space in her chest dictated or, at the least, compelled Beth's every choice, every thought, every action. A heaviness there would mean run away, and excited butterflies meant to rush towards.

Beth knew she was different compared to the rest of the prison. People loved her dad. Maggie fit in great. But Beth? Not so much.

Most of all, she felt like people  _reacted_  to her differently than they did Rick. When Rick spoke, people's ears perked up. Beth had to wave her arms to be noticed. When Rick put his foot down, people hushed and listened. When Beth put her foot down, she was being "difficult" or "bratty". Maybe when she came back from this adventure, people would look at her with new eyes.  _There goes Beth, she can handle herself outside of the fence_ , they'd say.

Rick was even serious in his clothing. He still tucked in his shirt, like her Papa. Beth had to guess that Rick was the last deputy donning his uniform before he finally switched out the badge and button-up for a t-shirt and jeans. At the farm, Maggie would joke with Lori and ask if Rick's "cop costume" was from Party City. Lori would stop what she was doing and playfully hit Maggie on the shoulder.

But Beth and Maggie were careful not to joke about Rick in front of Carl. They saw how he clung to Rick's hat. Beth had overheard Carl telling the other prison kids when he wore the hat, his invisibility cloak, no harm could come upon him. Even when Carl was mad at his dad for letting the Woodbury people stay at the prison, pointing his finger and arguing with Rick, Carl still wore the Sherriff's hat. Whether Carl knew it or not, Rick was his superhero, just like all fathers are supposed to be.

Beth also remembered Maggie and Lori whispering at night. She could hear Glenn's name and Maggie rambling. Lori would just listen, throwing out a soft "yes" or the occasional "I know what you mean." Through the wall, Beth heard Maggie eventually talking slower and even laughing, Lori telling her everything would be okay. Beth imagined Lori's hand resting on Maggie's back and Maggie not sure if she should pull away.

With her mind flooded with memories of Lori, Beth instinctively looked at Rick. He glanced towards her, face serious. When her eyes caught his, she turned her head back to the flickering trees.

* * *

Aside from his small headache from the alcohol session last night, Rick started feeling better. His misplaced anger from earlier fell away each mile they drove away from the prison.

"It's September," Beth said.

Rick paused, unsure where that bit of information came from, so he simply nodded. Beth nudged hair out of her face as she rolled down the window and stuck her arm outside. He saw her splay her fingers apart and close them again. Her hand swam through the rushing landscape, like an airborne fish making its evolutionary escape to the sky. After a moment, she softly hummed a tune, and Rick could barely hear it.

She was a million miles away.  _That's not good outside the fences_ , he thought. And, instantly, Rick regretted the judgment. Not because he was wrong, but because there was no room for innocence in their new world.

He still had questions himself about the whole thing. Why did the group trust him? Could he survive? Visions of Lori haunted him not even a few weeks ago. He had told Hershel about seeing his dead wife, and yet Hershel still trusted him with his daughter. Only the Governor's most recent attack had pulled Rick from the path he was heading down.

Rick had been feeling like a balloon, his string not attached to anything grounded. When he finally deflated and fell back to earth, would he land in a tree, no harm to anyone? Or would some creature confuse him for nourishment and choke on his remains? Would he still be a "good guy"? Would he even be the same person? Would a sane person need to even ask these questions?

Daryl and Michonne believed in him. Hershel believed in him. Rick had decided that would have to do. He would lean on their trust of him to better trust himself.

But still, at night, he would turn to his wife only to find she was not there.

Rick heard Beth stop humming. She suddenly pulled her arm inside the car and started looking around. Like a puppy on its first car ride, energy and nervousness emanated from the passenger seat. Rick shifted in his seat wondering if he was sitting on some girl item she was searching for – maybe chapstick or a hair clasp. After a few minutes, she finally settled down. He felt her looking at him, so he looked back. And as expected, her big, doe eyes were right there, staring at him. She said nothing and then turned her attention back out the window.

Was Beth ready for this? The last time he recalled Beth inside a moving vehicle, her family's barn was a blazing bonfire of walkers and wood. Hershel had let them in and, in return, the Greene's memories had ended up in a pile of ash.

At the prison, Rick had offered to take him back to the farm – to heal or for closure. Hershel had let Carl bleed on their sheets for God's sake. It was the least Rick could do. But Hershel never wanted to go back. "No reason to" was all he said. And Rick had left it at that.

The only light from that sorrowful night came from a burning barn. Everything else had been filled with darkness and death. Beth's boyfriend died that night. Her friend Patricia died too. Even her dad was willing to sacrifice himself to protect that farm. Home had meant everything to the Greene's, and Rick's group had blindly pulled them into a deep, black void.

This time they were going somewhere. And this time, Beth had a home to go back to.

* * *

Beth glanced at Rick, her heart thumping in her chest, not trusting her voice to come out with confidence.  _We have all this time, and we keep wasting it. Now is a perfect opportunity to talk to Rick, get to know him_. No one was around to judge her. And she had wasted so much time thinking she would have another moment with this person or that person. Just like she wasted the time she had with her Ma.

_It's just Rick. If not now, when?_

"Do you remember anything about before? Like, what music did you listen to?" Beth asked, breaking the silence.

Rick shrugged.

"C'mon Rick. I know you listened to music."

He sighed. He tried not to think about  _before_. Before the walkers. Before Judith. Rick cleared his throat. "Umm, well, I liked John Cougar Mellencamp." Rick said, enunciating all the syllables. He continued, "Springsteen. The Eagles." Rick paused and smiled, "Led Zeppelin."

"I know songs by all of those guys, except Led Zepellin. I bet I'd know one by them if I just heard a tune though. You know how you never realized your favorite song was by a band you already liked? Sing one of their good songs. I bet you I know it."

Rick laughed. "No, no. You know I don't do that."

"Well, you don't do that because you don't  _do_  that. Try."

"Oh god, Beth." He quickly turned to her, hoping a frown would deter the conversation.

He saw her facing him, excited. "Rick, I'm doing all these new things today. You have to set a good example!"

Rick blinked, not expecting the politicking from the seat next to him. He exhaled loudly. "Fine. But you're only getting a little bit."

"I'm ready!" Beth exclaimed, running her braid through her right hand.

Rick, half talking and half singing, said, "Sometimes I grow so tired … " He stopped. Beth caught her breath, not making a sound, so he would continue. Rick put his fist to his mouth, like a microphone, and exclaimed, "But I know I've got one thing I gotta do, ramble on!"

Beth covered her mouth as she tried to hide her laugh. "I don't know that one, try another one," she teased.

"It's not my fault your dad didn't teach you good music," Rick joked. "And that's all you're getting. If you tell anyone, remember, I know where you sleep." Rick dragged a line across his neck with his finger and winked at her. Beth drank him in. When he laughed, his blue eyes flickered in an ephemeral dance. When Rick Grimes was happy, the world felt so much lighter. "It's Zeppelin, by the way," he continued. "They were English. From London."

Beth nodded. She saw Rick aloof. He had his elbow sitting on the armrest and his other hand barely gripping the wheel. "Did you ever hear of Adele? I think she was from London. Or Britain, anyways."

Rick shook his head. "Well, go on," he finally said.

"I don't know if I can sing that high," she said.

Rick shook his head. "You're not getting out of this one."

"Okay," Beth said, acting like she needed convincing. She theatrically cleared her throat. "You ready?"

"Ready."

"We could've had it a-all. Rolling in the de-eep. You had my heart in-siiide of your hand. And you played it, you played it to the beat."

"No, can't say I've heard of that one."

"How about Bruno Mars?"

Rick just shook his head.

"Okay, this one was really big too. You probably know it," Beth smiled, reassuring RIck.

He waved his hand for her to continue.

"I don't know all the words but it goes something like this – I'd catch a grenade for you, throw my hand on a something for ya'," Beth giggled as she messed up the lyrics. "I'd jump on a train for you, you know I'd do anything for you. Ohhh, I'd go through all this pain, take a bullet through my brain. Yes I would die for you," Beth trailed off.

The hum of the engine and silence filled the car again. Rick shook his head. "I don't know, it sounds kind of morbid."

Beth sank in her chair a bit. This game she had devised seemed to be showing their differences more than their commonalities. Adults always paid too much attention to song lyrics.

"Yeah, I guess it does. I never noticed before." She slumped back into her seat and crossed her arms, concentrating on the scenery outside the window. The small town diners and gas stations had all but disappeared. Trees peppered the fields, which had lain open a few miles before.

"It's kind of scary, being this far," Beth whispered. Anything could happen and they would be separated from the group.  _Like a lost astronaut, all alone._

"Oh, we'll be fine," Rick reassured.

"Is Michonne coming back?" Beth asked, still staring out the window.

Rick paused as her name came out of left field. He dragged Michonne back into his mind, remembering her dogged determination to run from the group, to escape her isolation by running towards loneliness. He cleared his throat. "I think she will," he finally said.

"Carl was asking about her. And I wonder how she's doing out there. By herself."

"She'll come back."

"How do you know?" Beth asked, and she turned to look at Rick over her shoulder.

He looked like he was debating himself. He finally spoke, "The world's a big place. And she's looking for one man. His sins don't make him easier to find. She'll find us again before she finds him."

Rick didn't hear a response from Beth, and he continued driving.

* * *

They had been driving over 40 minutes. Due to the broken odometer, Rick guessed they were at least 30 miles away from the prison by now. They brought the nicer vehicles; he and Beth were in the Tucson, and Glenn drove the Dodge Ram. But the distance still made him uncomfortable. Thirty miles would be a two, possibly three, day walk back to the prison without the cars.

The Dodge slowed down, and Rick did too. The two-lane shrank as a canopy of trees, overgrown and unkempt, constricted the road with tangled branches and vines. The heavy arms of the changing leaves all but hid the rising sun. Rick's arms felt the tickling of cooler air. Time slowed down as the walkers, swaying with indecision, stared at the noise from their automobiles.

The walkers were at a laughable distance earlier, and Rick barely noticed their profiles. Now they were a skip and a lunge away, this one with it's missing eye and that one with it's missing cheek. Rick checked Beth's window, and it was closed. Beth had her knees tightly hugged to her chest.  _Attagirl. Respect your fear_.

They drove in silence a few minutes longer. Beth sat in the seat, completely still. Rick had not heard a peep from her since they passed a collection of open, abandoned fields and entered this cave of foliage. Glenn sped up, and Rick followed in suit.

A few miles later, they passed a line of rickety, feeble mailboxes. A gravel driveway slid into view and traced a path towards a collection of multi-storied houses in the shadows. A spire from one of the houses peeked through the trees. Beth leaned forward, palms resting on the window. A glimpse of jig-sawed details around the trim flashed through the trees. With the sanguine paint job and large pointed windows, Rick guessed the previous owners were attempting to revive some abominable Gothic architecture, complete with ceramic gargoyles and fountains with grotesque waterspouts. As quickly as they came into view, the trees consumed the houses, which vanished behind the camouflaging branches again.

"I hope the place we're going to is nicer than these," Beth offered from the passenger seat.

"Me too," Rick said.

"At least there ain't no walkers here."

And Rick scanned the trees. There were none. "Maybe that's a good sign," he said. Rick checked again, doubting the walkers had disappeared, but he could not even spot a stray roaming through the woods.

Beth shook her head. She laughed and said, "Is that a trick comment? Like, I'm supposed to catch you when you lie?"

"I can't be optimistic?" he asked, smiling. He cocked his head towards her. "Besides, Beth, I wouldn't lie to you." Before turning back to the road, he saw Beth's chin drop as her lips turned into a secret smile she tried to hide. Rick sat back, leaning his elbow against the window and resting his head in his palm, averting his gaze.  _I wouldn't lie to you_. The words floated in the air. In this car, on this day, they sounded so sentimental and personal. His arm relaxed on the steering wheel, but he clenched his jaw until he heard Beth sit back into her seat.

"And maybe it's a good sign that we kept on moving past those houses," Rick continued, and he glanced back at Beth. "They look decayed and molded. Everything inside would be damp. Probably useless." He nodded to himself.

Lori would have been proud the way Rick plucked that statement from the air, distracting it with additional muted drivel. She was always frustrated with Rick's lack of communication.  _Rick, we never talk anymore. Why won't you talk to me?_

The forest's branches fell away, and the early morning sun broke through the scattered leaves. Beth rolled down her window, and Rick felt heat hit his arm again. After five minutes, Glenn tapped his brakes.

"We must be getting close," Beth said.

Glenn turned on his blinker and both vehicles turned left. Less than a mile down the road, they saw a brick sign with the following:  _The Gates at Avondale_. They turned into the neighborhood and drove past a brick clubhouse. They followed the traffic circle and variations of the same two-story houses broke into their view. The pastel houses with swings on the porches and delicate fences mimicked some mythical town of Pleasantville, GA, pop. 3,432. The only hint of the ruin of civilization hid in the no longer manicured lawns, which now concealed toys and minor junk carelessly strewn about the yards.

Glenn pulled up to the first house, and their mini-cavalry of cars finally rested.

"How'd they even find this place?" Rick asked as he put the car in park.

Beth shrugged, "I dunno. It's so big, I wonder how anyone missed it."

Rick chuckled, his interest genuinely piqued. He ducked his head and squinted through the front window, aching for a closer look. Aside from the few stranded cars, the neighborhood looked undisturbed. Rick saw one or two broken windows but nothing else suggesting these people suffered any fear or hardship at all. No boarded up windows, no trash, no doors off hinges, no bodies, no walkers…. Nothing.

Beth, as if she heard Rick's thoughts, said, "When things started going crazy, we heard on the radio officials trying to evacuate. Maybe all these people went together."

"Doubtful," he said. "We'll find out when we see what's inside. Come on."


	14. Two Rules

“Glenn, how many houses are we going to?” Beth asked. 

_ Are we there yet? _

“Well, you’re almost done for the day. But Maggie and I....“ Glenn trailed off. 

“There’s so much stuff. So many things. How will we take it all?” 

“We won’t. We only take what we need.” 

Beth remembered they had only loaded up the Dodge with three bins of canned food. Even half of that, expired. And the tedium of the day had turned this exciting scavenger hunt into huge slog. The amount of belongings they left surprised Beth.  _ We don’t need that, that’s not what we’re here for, we don’t have room for that, the kids will fight over this if you can’t find five more _ … 

Beth’s fingers ran along a box. She lifted the lid. A one-legged ballerina with a lopsided head stared back at her, waiting for her comeback dance. Beth closed the box and investigated the underside. She found the key, twisted it, and placed the music box upright on the dresser. She lifted the lid up. The ballerina twirled for her. 

“What do we need?” she finally asked Glenn.

“Batteries. Medicine. But you won’t find it in this room. Unless the 9-year old girl who used to live here was secretly into camping or playing doctor with her friends.” 

Beth looked around the room taking in the pink bedspread with ruffled, cream colored pillows. Smiling, she caught Glenn’s eye. “I doubt that.” 

“Get out of here and check the bathrooms, will ya?” 

“Okay,” she said, watching Glenn leave. He was always so patient with her. Glenn looked at her when she talked. 

Beth turned back to the music box, the ballerina still dancing to  _ Blue Danube _ . The cylinder turned slower and slower, and the ballerina caught as she turned. Beth picked up a large black hair bow inside the box. Underneath, she found a shoelace holding together small pastel orange and green packets. “Sunflowers, peas, peonies, tomato, and cucumber,” she whispered to herself. They were seeds. Beth placed the hairbow back into the music box, closing the lid. She took the seeds, placed them into her plastic bin and headed towards the hallway bathroom.  

“Beth.” She heard Rick call for her as she passed the top of the stairs. She ran downstairs into the kitchen towards Rick’s voice. 

“Hey,” he said. “Throw this in your bin.” A command, not a question. Rick was in work-mode and tossed a bottle of pills to her. She caught the the bottle, and he returned back to shuffling through drawers. She read the label - “ibuprofen.”  _ Dad will be happy _ , she thought. Beth knew he would give the medicine to others before taking any himself. She strived to be kind like her father. 

Beth was unsure if she should stay or head back to the bathroom. But the windows were as long as the day, and sunlight filled the kitchen. Where shadows ruled the prison, this house felt like electricity still coursed through its interior. The cool air hung around from the morning, and chirping insects beat the tunes of a late-summer day. 

_ I’ll stay for awhile. The bathroom will only take a moment to look through _ . 

She picked up a framed picture next to the dining table. Beth wiped the dust from the glass onto her jeans as cabinet doors opened and closed behind her.  Two children and their parents were kneeling on a windy beach. Windbreakers floated around their heads as they all smiled back at her. The children beamed brightly, and the mom angled her body towards the dad.  

“Beth!” She turned around and a first aid kit flew towards her. She cradled the frame and bottle of pills in her arms to catch the kit. She heard a crack. “I’m sorry,” Rick apologized with a smile. “I thought you were still-” 

“It’s not a problem,” she said. The glass on the picture fractured the family in half. Damage already done, Beth returned the frame to its shelf. 

“I think that’s it,” Rick said. He turned to Beth, hands on his hips. “Are you done with all the bathrooms?” 

“Not yet.” His hands flew by his side in confusion. “I’m almost done though.” She turned and flew up the stairs with the pills and kit.  

* * *

“Since the Woodbury crew came, we're running through supplies faster,” Rick said.

“According to Carol, we’re not doing bad on food. What we’re bringing back should be enough for awhile. But we need ammo and batteries,” Glenn said.

“Hershel says we’re also low on medicine. He’s been using liquor to sterilize. Did you find anything?”

Glenn shook his head.

“Shit. Walkers, men with guns - and then to die by something smaller than a bullet…. That’d be rough.” 

“I don’t get sick.” Glenn squatted, shoving a gun into his bag. “And when I get older than you, then I’ll worry about old age.” 

“Hey, guys?” Beth yelled from the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” Glenn answered. 

“What’s X-annex?”

“It’s Xanax,” Glenn replied.

“Leave it,” Rick yelled. 

“Take it,” Glenn yelled. 

Rick cocked his head sideways and then raised his eyebrows. “Is this what you and Maggie do without supervision?”

“What? You just got done saying we need medicine.” He stood up, throwing his bag over his shoulder, changing the subject. “Maggie and I will grab what we can in the next row of houses.” 

“Okay, I’ll load up what we have in your truck.” 

“We’ll find a place for all us tonight. Look for both cars parked in front of a house. That’s where we’ll be.” 

_ The ark. Our safety during the flood.  _

“Beth and I will go out back. Should find something in the woods.” 

Glenn whistled. “Spooky.” His smile disappeared and he put his hand on Rick’s shoulder. Glenn took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Maggie and I were talking and we’re fine to take Beth out if you don’t want to, if you need time alone to figure, you know, things out.” 

_ Judith, Carl and Lori. But there’s only room for two.  _

Rick kept a smile plastered on his face as his heart freefell into his stomach, the subject change too abrupt. 

_ Lori places Judith into Carl’s arms and motions him up the ramp.  _

“At the prison, there’s not much time to collect your thoughts and--” Glenn continued to talk. 

_ Rick pleads for Lori to follow the kids. _

Rick continued to smile and shook his head. “No, no. We’ll stick to the plan. You guys keep going.” 

_ Lori retreats into the fog, and the rain starts to fall.  _

* * *

The rows of houses ended with a flat, grassy field. A forest beyond the field hid the rest of their view. 

_ What secrets did they used to hide _ , Beth wondered.  _ Girls writing in their journals, boys playing hide and seek. But all those kids are gone now; the forest is empty _ .

“Ready?” Rick asked. 

“There’s nothing here, so there’s probably nothing there.” 

“There’s nothing here, so there’s definitely something there,” he countered. “No people here, but you can bet there are animals there. Where there’s food, there’s walkers.”

“There’s food here. And here we are. Maybe we’re not so different than walkers.” 

Rick sighed, squinting in the sun. “Distant cousins, maybe. C’mon.” 

Beth tapped her back pocket, feeling for Daryl’s knife through the fabric as she followed RIck. 

* * *

He grabbed Beth’s arm and crouched down. “See it?” he asked. The walker was out of earshot and difficult to see. Rick wondered if the walker wore a camouflage jacket or just happened to fall into a pile of wet leaves.  

“No,” she said frankly. 

“Right there.” She leaned closer and followed his arm. 

“Oh, duh! I see,” she said, excitedly, a little too loud. 

Rick promised himself he would show Carl more when he got back to the prison. Maybe one day they could have a school, teach the kids. Hands-on and demonstrations, not solely lectures and dictation. 

Rick recalled the promise he made to Hershel. “Keep my daughter safe. Teach her the ways of this new world, but err on the side of caution.” Rick decided he would show Beth two rules in the open field, you can run and you can hide. Those are good and valid options, options that keep you alive. Fighting would come later at the prison, through the fence.  

He turned to her. “First rule,” he said with a dramatic pause. “Avoid them. Run.” He stood up, and Beth matched him. Beth was expecting a fight, Rick knew that, but he was giving her coward’s advice. The annoyance rose inside Beth and bubbled to the surface, the furrowed brow and the accusing eyes. 

There was another way to stop a fight - distraction. Rick would do something unexpected, he would lighten the mood. He pointed at Beth, a serious frown on his face. “Did you just try to roll your eyes at me?” 

The color rose to her cheeks. She shook her head, her blonde hair creating a halo around her face. Rick caught the glimpse of a smile, the sin forgiven.

He swallowed, and the sound reverberated through his body - a small moment that felt so grand. When you hear the mechanizations of your body, you are on display to everyone. A gulp, the knees popping, a loud breath, and then -- the pounding of blood in your head, the beat of your heart? They have you.  _ Never let them see you sweat. _

“What’s the first rule again?” she asked. Over Beth’s shoulder, Lori swayed in the distance. “Are you sure it’s not grabbing your knife?” She pulled Daryl’s knife from her back pocket. 

Rick shook his head. “No, run. Always run.” He blinked his eyes, and Lori was gone. 

“What are we doing standing here then?” she asked. They walked deeper into the forest.

Rick admonished himself for getting too lost in his thoughts. That’s when he saw Lori. At least that is when he told himself he saw Lori. Underneath the layers of knowing, Rick knew he did not know. 

When he closed his eyes and walked down the hidden staircases of his mind, Rick found a locked door. He believed Lori lived there. Traveling through these twisted hallways, whispers reminded him how he also failed his family. Real families had a mother. A father. His son and daughter had neither. Rick’s soul dragged behind him like a ragdoll. He did not know how to pull it back inside. 

“Rick!” Beth said. 

The leaves rustled in the familiar pattern - a cacophony of crunches and sliding dirt and groaning. There were at least ten, and they were closer than they should have been. He should have seen them first. Rick held his arm out and walked backwards, keeping himself between Beth and the walkers. A cluster of trees appeared to his right. He motioned Beth towards the trees, and she knelt behind the base of the trunks. 

Rick kneeled behind Beth. “Rule two,” he whispered into her ear. Her hands gripped the tree tighter. “Hide.” She said nothing and his words reverberated through the air. His back felt cold and open, vulnerable to the emptiness of the woods behind. Hairs rose on his exposed skin. They were isolated and alone, drowning in the ocean. 

But Rick’s body was ready to fight.

He took deeper breaths to relax. The warrior inside would need to lay down his hatchet for the moment. The group would build a system to teach the adolescents how to fight, in stages, and manage the chaos of learning. But today was not the day. There were too many walkers and this was only the first act. The climax would come another day. 

Hushed, they hid behind the collection of trees. The trees understood the concept of safety in numbers. Branches hugging other branches, growing and intertwining together, showing humans how to survive in this new world.

Did he disappoint Beth? Did she _ want  _ to fight walkers? Had he pulled the rug out from underneath her on this trip? 

_ Go with Rick, he’ll teach you how to fight _ .  

Had she not been lied to, tricked, and manipulated? 

But who had not been tricked? He was promised a wife, a family, a house, a retirement party at the local bar. No one got these things anymore. She had to feel this, disappointment. 

Rick smelled the youth in front of him, the blonde hair somehow smelled clean. His arm rested to the outside of hers. He contrasted his tanned, hardened arm against her milky-white, soft skin. Beth had somehow been physically shielded from the realities of this new world. The walkers blurred into the background as he saw Beth rest her cheek on the tree. God never wanted her here. 

The walkers shuffled closer to their hiding spot, but they were still over a hundred yards away. Rick and Beth were not in their direct path, not like- 

_ “Don’t leave me here.” Sophie turned up to Rick, with pleading eyes.   _

Rick squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. 

“Why don’t we fight? I’m not afraid,” Beth whispered, pulling him back.

“There’s too many.” In this world of so little, there were always too many. 

Rick continued to mumble words. “We live to fight another day.” Did he sound like an adult? Did he sound smart?    

The walkers stumbled past. A symphony of crispy leaves, snapping limbs, and dragging feet drew Beth into a lull. Rick tensed his body to stay alert, removing his attention from Beth to the parade in front of them. He saw their future selves in that line, the walking dead. Yet, he also believed they would never end up in that state. 

_ Schrodinger’s cat - what would you see when you finally opened the box?  _

The last walker passed them, and Beth stayed low. Rick finally stood, his knees creaking and his back stiff, the reminders of age. Perhaps the slow movements looked calm and purposeful to Beth.  She stood and looked to her teacher for guidance.  

“What’s the first rule?” he asked.

“Run,” she whispered.

“Then?” 

“Hide.” 

He patted her on her shoulder. “Good. You got it, kid.”  Beth turned her head towards the houses beyond the trees, and he could see the curve of her chin. 

_ Kid. _


End file.
